


To Immolate

by Voragine



Series: A mother's love [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: 100 Year War (Avatar TV) - Freedom, Arranged Marriage, Avatar: The Legend of Korra References, Episode: s03e13 The Firebending Masters - Freedom, Eugenics, Fantastic Racism, Fire Nation Lore (Avatar), Fire Nation Politics (Avatar), Gen, Indigenous rights, Not Compliant with Avatar Comics, Sun Warriors (Avatar) - Freedom, Ursa (Avatar) - Freedom, no beta we die like lu ten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:27:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26845864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voragine/pseuds/Voragine
Summary: It began, like many things, in a tryst.Of course, the “tryst” was in fact, a meeting to plan a possible arranged marriage.Romantic.Ursa would bet as she sits in the carriage carrying her to her house (and she swears she would win), that Prince Ozai couldn’t even remember her face five minutes after the meeting ended.How charming of him, what a good husband he will be.It doesn’t matter, at the end, just how well we get along, he is using me and I’m using him, it almost feels like an equivalent exchange.Almost.It doesn’t matter, Ran and Shaw will be safe this way.The very first alliance between the Sun Warriors and the Dragon Throne in Agni knows how long. Truly, Ursa is privileged to be see this through, she has a duty to her people.(“It also doesn’t matter that if we do marry, I can never go home again” is what she doesn’t dare to think)
Relationships: Iroh & Ursa (Avatar), Lu Ten & Ursa, Ozai & Ursa (Avatar), Ozai/Ursa (Avatar)
Series: A mother's love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958287
Comments: 14
Kudos: 34





	1. The Tryst

_ It began, like many things, in a tryst.  _

Of course, the “tryst” was in fact, a meeting to plan a possible arranged marriage.

Romantic.

It actually took over a month to go over preparations, to check and recheck security, to array all the refreshments suitable for both individuals, and for both of the families’ representatives to have  _ just enough _ time available to concur at a cloudless day. 

The so called “tryst” lasted  _ almost  _ half an hour.

Truly, her normal training exercises last more than that stale meeting, the fittingly bland room consisted of a low table made out of rich dark wood, the cushions were scarlet. Just like the rest of the palace, not a strand of another color was seen. Ursa and her father sat before Crown Prince Iroh and Prince Ozai, the tea on the table quickly forgotten after she was requested to show her firebending abilities on the nearby training grounds. 

Ursa talked with Crown Prince Iroh and with her own father far more than she spoke with her prospect spouse. The man barely looked at her, seeming more interested on the poetic names of the exercises and how much raw fire she could manifest. Ursa would bet as she sits in the carriage carrying her to her house (and she swears she would win), that Prince Ozai couldn’t even remember her face five minutes after the  _ tryst  _ ended.

How charming of him, what a good husband he will be.

_ It doesn’t matter, at the end, just how well we get along, he is using me and I’m using him, it almost feels like an equivalent exchange. _

Almost.

_ It doesn’t matter, Ran and Shaw will be safe this way. _

The very first alliance between the Sun Warriors and the Dragon Throne in Agni knows how long. Truly, Ursa is privileged to be see this through, she has a duty to her people.

_ (“It also doesn’t matter that if we do marry, I can never go  _ home  _ again” is what she doesn’t dare to think) _

* * *

Ursa’s family was odd, she was willing to recognize it. If she were to think about her grandmother, Ursa would proudly belong to the Sun Warriors, if she were to think about her grandfather, she would belong to an uprising noble family. She grew up listening stories from her grandmother, the most trapped wife talking like the freest of all wildfires, about how she never regretted marrying Ursa’s grandfather. Ursa grew up travelling through mountains, volcanos, and valleys to reach  _ home _ .

Her parents are scholars, her sister is an herbalist, and her brother... well, one of the many casualties in this too-much-for-too-long war.

Of course, if Ursa were to think of herself, she could only think about the private fact of her bloodline. About firebending. About Ran and Shaw, and that  _ fire-is-life-not-meant-for-genocide. _

There is a reason Ursa doesn’t enjoy thinking about her family, about the quiet and far-too-polite-for-the-damning-topic arguments about what to do with their heritage. There is also a reason most of her family don’t talk to each other about their secret. Is it treason to  _ know  _ where the remaining dragons are? Is it treason to  _ not  _ tell Fire Lord Azulon where the biggest remaining dragons are? 

What should they betray first, their family or their Lord?

Of course, her family can’t fully commit to either idea. Too “savage” for the royal court, yet too “noble” to protect the Sun Warriors like they used to do in her father’s childhood.

It also doesn’t help that, during family reunions, the fact that one side of her family is against the war (yet holding onto the promised neutrality like a lifeline) and that the other is fighting for it (and yet so full of regrets).

So, they eventually unanimously decide to say nothing about it to anyone, and to never speak about it again.

Truly, Ursa’s family is far too complicated, Agni must be laughing at the dichotomy between of what-was and what-is that resides in her blood. Two ideals that constantly conflict, life and destruction.

Then, of course, she had to get married.

Ursa couldn’t really see similarities between the royal siblings. Crown Prince Iroh’s dark hair dotted with white signs of age that preferred to show on his face, mostly around his mouth and eyes (uncommon in modern firebenders, who usually aged in shows of anger), short yet muscular in body, with a commanding presence that made it clear he was to be heard. Despite all of that, his eyes were kind.

Prince Ozai was the opposite. Tall, lithe and defined muscles, sharp and clear jaw. Black hair pulled back, not a wrinkle in sight. Objectively perfect. But those eyes... Those eyes belonged in the artic sea, too cold, seeming like frozen water waiting for the best moment to act and douse everything that it saw, made it clear that he would not regret any of it.

Truly, if Ursa couldn’t see the eye color or the pronounced cheekbones, she might have never thought they were related.

Ursa still doesn’t know how it happened, she is from a noble family, wealthy and powerful enough to be considered important. She herself  _ is  _ wealthy and powerful, although her family lacked military power. None of that prepared her to get married to a  _ Prince. _

Although she has some ideas of how this happened...

Thankfully, explanations came soon enough, at the end of the boring reunion that she refused to call a tryst. Ursa was barely sweating, the long since abandoned tea was easy to heat up on her hands, her father skillfully hiding his own apathy. Servants came, orders were given and presences requested. Prince Ozai was already out of the room, looking as bored as if someone told him he had a mountain of paperwork to read, perhaps, that’s what Fire Lord Azulon will do.

Yet Crown Prince Iroh remained, his eyes meeting Ursa’s firmly, but not unkindly. Then, when the footsteps of her future husband became far enough, he spoke again.

“Your bloodline, who knows  _ ancestral  _ fire so well, would benefit the future of the Crown”

The way General Iroh looked at her in the eyes made her want to scream questions and throw accusations at everyone that  participates on the occasional family reunions.  _ Who in Agni’s name dared to betray Fire like this? Who was it? Osamu if this was  _ your _ doing,  _ _ I’ll _ _ collect your ashes myself and bring you back just so I can kill you personally. General Iroh, why are you looking at me like that- _

Ursa didn’t say any of that, however, she didn’t show a reaction. She stayed calm and counted as many numbers as possible before she dared to speak again, not looking down to acknowledge that she was quickly heating her new tea cup still on her hands. Defying silently to General Iroh to say anything further, holding onto his eyes like the would hold a sword in a vicious fight. Ursa’s own companion (her own  _ father _ ), however, pointedly  _ not  _ remaining as silent as her.

“Of course, we would be honored,”  _ was  _ that  _ the best her father could say? She is going to  _ kill  _ him after this-  _ “But we must discuss this further, privately”

General Iroh turned his gaze onto him, and smiled  _ like everything was alright, like he didn’t tell her family’s biggest secret, like how they would be treated as traitors for defending the Masters-  _ “I’m glad we agree Major General,” and with a flicker of his wrist, the servants left. No tea server, no maid, or guard was left on the room. The only sign they were there to begin with is the now refilled steaming cups of tea on the table, the pot nearby as per requested by the Crown Prince.

The silence spread thickly as a burn salve, filling every corner with human malice. The steam from the cup softly stopping along as Ursa’s temper cooled, but she refused to tear her eyes from Crown Prince Iroh’s, searching for answers she wouldn’t find on her own, manners be  _ damned _ . 

“The Throne always knew about the Sun Warriors existence, firebending had to come from somewhere after all,” The General began, changing his seat place from the side of the low table to the middle of it, as to look at both guests. “The public record officially states all of them to have died centuries ago. However, Fire Lord Azulon has notified me with the news that might not be as certain as we thought.”

No, she is  _ not  _ staying silent a minute further.

“How so? Fire Lord Sozin declared them extinct so long ago,” Ursa replied, she would feel proud of how calm her voice sounded if she could hear it over the pounding from her heart sounding so utterly loud on her own ears.

If he took offence for the lack of formal procedure, General Iroh didn’t show it as he calmly took a sip of his cup of tea.

“Their society is extinct, their bloodlines are not,” he began. “It is  _ possible  _ that there are some Sun Warriors to this day.” Now  _ both  _ Ursa and her father barely concealed their glare when he clearly looked at them.

Silence overtook the room again, the summer heat outside turning gentle in comparison to the growing tension inside the room. However, for all their ( _ righteous _ ) and poorly hidden anger, General Iroh only confronted them with a sigh and continued.

“I am aware that your family is descendant of a Sun Warrior, but the Throne does not intend to capture them,” the silent ‘anymore’ was not missed despite its audible lack, General Iroh now turned the focus of his eyes to Ursa. “The Fire Lord is proposing a bond of peace through a union.”

Oh.

_ What? _

Ursa had to tear her eyes away from General Iroh, her white knuckles around the now abused cup quickly becoming the most interesting thing on the room, the ringing in her ears didn’t help either.

_ What are they planning? Why  _ now  _ of all times? Sure, the Warriors are steadily growing back but we are nowhere  _ near  _ strong enough to pose a threat to the Throne or the Fire Nation. _

_ We haven’t been in a long time. _

_ Wait, I can’t make a decision like this for all the Sun Warriors. I’m barely an accepted member. _

“I must admit, General Iroh, that I don’t have the jurisdiction to make a decision for all of the surviving Sun Warriors. For while we  _ do  _ exist,”  _ no thanks to you though-  _ “I am not a member of the Chief’s family”

It was risky, accepting that they even  _ exist _ , but considering that the Crown Prince (and therefore, quite possibly the  _ Fire Lord _ as well) already knew, it’s not like they had another choice. Ursa hoped that saying ‘surviving’ gave the appearances of just a small group of about fifty individuals, not the small growing society they actually had.

“While I am aware of that, Lady Ursa, you are the only descendant that has an existing political presence strong enough to not seem too strange if you do accept to marry my brother. We had hoped you could be able to communicate our future affiliation with the remaining Sun Warriors.”

Again,  _ what in Tui and La’s name are they thinking- _

“General Iroh, pardon my bluntness but, what is the reason for this ‘bond’?” Oh, right, she isn’t alone in this. Father is probably as mad as she is, considering how his falling out with Grandmother never got in the way of his protection of Ran and Shaw.

General Iroh just sighed, looking like a tired soldier instead of the General he was. 

“I will be honest. This is not a direct decision from the Fire Lord,” he said, like  _ that  _ made it better-. “It is my choice as Crown Prince and therefore, as future Fire Lord, Agni allows it, to amend the actions done by my predecessors. What kind of nation would I grow if that very same nation doesn’t treat their own ancestors with the respect they deserve?”

_ Oh, perhaps the same nation that allowed the hunting of Agni’s children in the first place? _ Just because you can pull off the act of caring about something doesn’t mean you actually  _ care _ , Ursa knows that. A big part of her time is spent looking at plays, judging literature and observing if actions make  _ sense _ . General Iroh is not making sense here, why would a person who propagates  _ war  _ care about social issues? 

What would he gain, if the Sun Warriors accepted? 

Not much, perhaps the chance to see the remains of yet another society they helped to kill. The secrets of firebending are not much, even if it pains Ursa to accept it. Fire is life, and it comes from much more than hatred. The emotions, the will of the bender, all of that is fire,  _ becomes  _ fire. It’s not so different from modern flames, in times of need, firebenders will use anything as fuel so they can burn, even if they don’t realize it themselves.

But if they know about the dragons... Well, there is a reason why there aren´t many people with the title of ‘Dragon’. And even in the worst-case scenario, where this ‘bond’ is to kill the remaining dragons, then they will be disappointed. There aren’t any hatchlings to kill now, only a couple of adults and a pair of juvenile dragons in the care of the surviving clans; some are hidden by Fire Sages or shamans, others live inside of volcanos.

They should know better than to kill the children of the Four Spirits. It’s as if they wish for bending to disappear...

_ Wait, it’s impossible to kill all of them. The very World would take revenge on them.  _

_ If so, why hasn’t there been revenge from the Winds- _

“Ursa?” said a very familiar voice,  _ Dad _ . “Ursa, are you alright? You look very pale, dear.”

“I will request some refreshments. I believe that I may have upset the poor girl,” another voice continued,  _ General Iroh- _

Oh. Oh, damn.

_ Ursa, this is not the time for analyzing things. Do something about this stupid situation, freak out later. _

“That won’t be necessary, General.”

Prince Iroh didn’t look convinced, but nonetheless he carried on.

“As I was saying, this would not be a direct action from Fire Lord Azulon, but mine. He is giving me free reign with this, and he also has agreed you would be a great wife to my brother.”

Ursa honestly didn’t know what to say to  _ that _ . The Fire Lord thinks I would be a good wife...

_ I don’t want that man to even think about my existence. _

“What would you offer to the Sun Warriors?” Father asked.

“Official recognition of land, not as an independent State but as an Ancient part of the Fire Nation, as a historical site to be protected,” Prince Iroh began. “Amendments to the educational curriculum about the current state of the Sun Warriors is also possible.”

_ What are you planning? We just want to live in peace.  _

“While I said I don’t speak for all Sun Warriors, I also know that there is a major consensus among us, that is that we would prefer to be left alone. The Fire Nation has hurt itself for a long time, and the wounds are too fresh for our existence to be made public knowledge again,” Ursa responded. 

“Ah, it is true that these decades haven’t been too kind to your people”

_ Do I dare? _

Ursa took a deep breath.

“General Iroh, if there’s a reason why there are some people still interested in us, it would be because of the laws about hunting dragons. Despite there being no dragons left, because there was never a public end to the hunts, some people are found wandering around the ruins, trying to find information about their location.”

Even mentioning the topic felt like ash on her mouth. She remembers lost scales on the forest, a long (yet  _ too small- _ ), slender body, head taken as a  _ trophy _ . There still are scorch marks on the nearby trees, on those that survived.

_ Please, let that be enough. _

“That can be arranged. The public already believes there are no Sun Warriors left, it wouldn’t be a surprise if there were no dragons left as well,” he sighed. “It must be someone believable, however.”

It couldn’t be that easy, it shouldn’t be. Just a request? Not even saying a pathetic ‘please’? 

There was a knot forming quickly on her throat. Ursa didn’t dare to say more as she brushed her knee with her father’s under the table, lightly tapping three of her fingers on the table as a signal for him to continue.

“I believe the Chief should be present for future conversations, as he will be the one making the final decision. Shall we continue with our discussions?” her father said.

“That’s a good idea. Perhaps this is the time to bring those refreshments after all, this may take a while,”

A while, indeed.

* * *

At the end of the day, Ursa knew she would marry Prince Ozai for the protection of the Sun Warriors (for the protection of the last  _ dragons _ ). General Iroh said it was because he wanted to make amendments but how much of that is believable? Is he doing this so he can have the title of ‘Dragon’ without actually fighting one? Does he even know the full extent of what he is offering?

_ What are they planning? Do they believe we could retaliate against them if it was necessary? _

It didn’t matter at the end how she felt about her marriage, about her life and about her destiny. It didn’t matter how the scroll on her father’s hands seemed to exude poison. It didn’t matter that she felt as if she was walking to her own public execution, and how every step to the exit of the palace felt like walking on ice slowly creeping over her. As if she doesn’t leave fast enough her flame will be forever doused but if she walks too quickly the ice will break, trapping her in the sheer  _ nothingness  _ of the ocean on the royal gates.

Ursa now has a duty, she has to protect the ruined grace and forgotten glory of the hidden  _ home  _ she had in the mountains, she must protect her heritage (the  _ good  _ part of her blood). Ursa must protect the stories of peace her grandmother told her and the memories of the constant yet beloved summer journeys she always had.

_ Who told them? How did they find out? _

Ursa was sure of something, however. The World itself was preparing for something, and she just saw a prologue where she is just another performer in the never-ending play of the Spirits.

Well, it is a good thing, in the end, that Ursa always gave good performances.


	2. an essay on panic, and mixed emotions.

Ursa was procrastinating, and she knew it. 

Allright, it wasn’t like _that_. She knew that she had to take tell Chief Ito, but so many things could go wrong from a single mistake. 

_(She had to make sure no one was following her. A letter could be intercepted, a massager hawk could be controlled and followed, a simple mistake and so many people would die and it would be her fault-)_

Prince Iroh must be planning something, he had the whole act of caring well laid out, but he is not fooling Ursa. He is a General, how many men has he sacrificed like cheap Pai Sho tiles? How many families has he destroyed? How many children has he made orphans? 

Ursa doesn’t like the war. She hates that fire is being used for killing. 

_(She has vowed to never harm with fire after-)_

Children are taught fire is the superior element because they are the only ones who can produce it. Water is everywhere, yet a waterbender can’t generate it; not air, or earth. Perhaps it is, Ursa believes that it might be. Fire is life, has always been and always will. From the softest ember, a young spark of flame, to a blazing fire, and the to ashes. You are born, you live and you die. You can see your life in a flame, Ursa agrees on that at least. 

Children are taught that the March of the Civilization is bringing good towards the world, sharing national greatness. 

_(she sometimes wonders, if fire is the strongest element, why are they killing all that can douse for national greatness too? Too much earth and fire dies, even a zephyr can kill a flame if it’s angled right, and water can simply-)_

As she sat on her garden, mind just as restless as yesterday after a failed sunrise meditation, she couldn’t will herself to think about what she was going to say to the Chief, 

_Just what am I going to say. ‘Hey Ito, I will marry the grandson who started the Hunts._ _Oh, and they want to make a deal with the Warriors. May I have your blessing?’_

Well, Ursa could ask for his blessing, just like she could ask for baby names- 

Oh. 

Ursa didn’t even think of that little detail. 

Ursa is going to become a mother, isn’t she? With _that_ man as the father? 

_Well, it’s a marriage, it is obvious… but still, children. Of her own._

Ursa is too young for children, she is twenty-two! Most women wait in this nation. Isn’t that part of the greatness they want to share? 

It seems silly in comparison, to worry about children instead of her people, but maybe it’s a sign. She always wanted to be a mother. Perhaps things won’t be too bad, she will become royalty, have children, and her husband will be a famous man. It seems like she is living one of those romantic plays people so often enjoy. Ursa knows, however, that Life never said she was a gentle Mistress. 

* * *

Ursa lived in her family’s house. While notorious in territory for their rank, paled in comparison to the Palace. The manor has tall celling, constructed of mostly dark wood and polished stone, with golden decorations on the entrance. Outside two statues protect the building, alongside of a narrow path that leads to a well-cared for garden, full of various herbs. 

Ursa’s mother was teaching, and her sister was studying in the garden, but her father was with her. He tended to do that after that damned rendezvous. 

“Dad, do you think we can trust them?” 

Silence. 

“I want to hope. But hope doesn’t win in the battlefields,” 

“Nor in politics,” 

“Nor in politics, indeed.” 

On her hands, Ursa held a simple letter, a draft really. The letter wasn't good enough, it is her fifth draft and yet it all feels so utterly incomplete, despite it being purposely devoid of the information that _should_ be there. How do you even start saying it? A single sheet of paper, yet it felt heavy with knowledge in Ursa’s mind. 

Ursa, however, doesn’t dare to wait for more time, and sends a quick prayer to the Spirits, and hopes for the best. 

* * *

_Dear Ito,_

_..._

_There has been some startling news recently that I believe you will be personally invested on; my house is would be a good place to talk about such matters. Would green tea be agreeable to you?_

_..._

* * *

She was _not_ panicking, just a tad worried, she just so happened to be in the gardens. It was a wonderful day outside, the air was much more present than in her chambers, yet it still felt oddly lacking. 

The massager hawks were late, had it become lost? Had it been hunted down? Is the Chief _gone_ \- 

Or perhaps time was moving too slowly. It has barely been a day and a half. 

Ursa hoped it was just the latter. 

“Drink this.” came her sister’s voice, cutting her thoughts with her usual suddenness. 

“Uh…” 

“Eloquent, aren’t you?” Akari had the gale to roll her eyes, Ursa really hoped she tripped over her own feet and left her _alone_. 

“Stop sulking already, it’s going to be fine.” she continued, clearly not carrying for the lack of answer. 

The tea was pleasant on Ursa’s mouth, warm with a calming aroma of flowers, and just a bit of honey to sweeten it all. 

And if Ursa stayed in the gardens despite the fact that the air was exactly the same as inside the house? Well, Akari wasn’t going to say anything, ignoring Ursa to focus on her book, quietly reading the classification and treatment of burns. 

Akari has read that book a thousand times since Osamu’s death, yet she is rereading it again. Ursa is not the only one who has had a rough year. 

* * *

It’s been two days since the massager hawk was sent. 

Ursa is panicking, she is accepting that now. 

Look at her, it’s as if Ursa is five again and following her mother everywhere. Truly, at her age she _should_ feel embarrassed for needing her mother’s presence, but in this situation? _Perhaps_ , she thinks, _it makes sense, she is allowed to feel like this, just this once_. 

The classroom is simple, the wooden floor and the white walls decorated with red drapes. Clearly a standard room, the architectural design utilitarian as usual with the Fire Nation’s resourcefulness, to put it kindly. And while her mother, professor Emi, never quite _liked_ making her students give presentations about the things _she_ is supposed to teach, but her mother has been mostly silent since the formal invitation arrived at their house. 

They sat at the back of the classroom, and while Ursa is a little older than the average student from this particular class, no one really pays attention to others, too focused in their own world. 

Good thing these people are scholars, their situational awareness would make them terrible soldiers. 

“During 31 After Sozin’s Comet, the rightful heir to the throne, Crown Prince Azulon took power over the White Takeover-” 

By the spirits, the poor boy sounds like he has memorized his whole presentation. 

“The insurgents were a resistance formed by southerner waterbenders, some traitors of the Fire Nation and a couple of airbenders.” 

Not everyone agreed on the war againstthe Air Nation at the beginning of the war, some of the Air Nation were (according to some) nomads who tended to wander around, mounting their flying bison, mostly without causing harm. 

Then they realized the sheer potential of what airbending can do… the stories about the Dark Decade can still be heard, and since then the public stopped doubting the acts of Fire Lord Sozin, after that. 

_(The stories about air pulled from lungs changed history, now the comet that came eighty-three years ago has become the measurement of the war,_ _honoring Fire_ _Lord_ _Sozin_ _foresight in the true nature of_ _airbenders._ _)_

“Fire Lord Azulon, the Peace bringer ended the massacre. Punished the guilty, and blessed the innocent. His rule has been kind for the Fire Nation, curing us from the civil war, and restoring peace in our nation.” 

Ursa doesn’t trust the Royal family, none of her family do. But she can’t help but hope that things are going to be alright, in the end, at least. Because what else can she do? She is in no position to refuse, and the only reassurance that Ursa won’t be outright _ordered_ to marry Prince Ozai is the thin veil of a peace treaty. 

Ursa is grabbing hope with her full strength, powered by a mix of stubbornness and denial, yet why is she feeling like she is attempting to grab sand only for it to escape through her fingers? She is no longer present in the room, she is only a collection of conflicted feelings, of negations and pleading, of hope and worry, wandering aimlessly in her own mind. 

Yet, cutting through the haze of distress, a hand under the table simply grabs her own, lightly rubbing circles on her palms. No sound, no promise of _'it will all work out'_ , just plain and simple comfort. 

It was just what Ursa needed, and she held her mother's hand tightly in return. 

* * *

It took four days after that frosted reunion for the Chief to arrive. 

Ursa hopes Chief Ito feels as confused as she herself feels, she wished she could turn back time to where things made sense. None of this marriage, none of this alliance, none of this _‘choice as the Crown Prince’_ made sense. 

The Chief, Ursa decided, looked odd in formal clothes, the deep red with just some details of embroidered golden tread. She wished she didn’t have the visual image now, as if some spell has been broken, she logically knew that he didn’t _always_ dress traditional Sun Warrior clothing, but nothing could have prepared her for the punch in her stomach she felt as she saw him. Is it too late to just burn it all herself? 

As someone who doesn’t value formality, once they were alone, Ito went straight to the point. 

“Lady Ursa, why have you called me here?” 

Frost it all, she really wished her father was here, but they agreed that making Ursa tell Ito the... recent development, was the best course of action. 

“Chief Ito, I am not aware of _how_ ,” she made the pause very clear. “But the Throne is aware of the Sun Warriors’ existence.” 

Perhaps if she didn’t have context, it would have been funny to watch the young Chief’s face turn white, before fainting. 

Great. 

At least she remembered to say that she wasn’t aware of the ‘ _how’_ , diplomacy was tricky like that. 

* * *

Tea is shared, food is eaten. 

Nothing makes them feel like this is indeed their reality, rather than something belonging to a theater scroll. 

At least there are only minimal head wounds when her guest wakes up. The headache is warning of an incoming migraine for both of them, however. 

“So, to summarize, the Fire Lord is aware that the Sun Warriors, the supposed dead culture that worshipped dragons that they sent to haunt, is alive. Oh, and he wants an alliance,” his dry tone was notable. “That doesn’t sound suspicious at all.” 

“There’s more, Crown Prince Iroh says it’s his own decision as future Fire Lord.” her own tone was as dry as his. 

“Sounds believable.” 

“My dad said it would be best if you could help with the treaties.” 

Silence. When he found his voice, it was oddly empty of emotions. 

“I can’t go to the palace, people would notice if a commoner simply has an appointment with the Fire Lord,” Chief Ito began. “Nor can they go the Ruins, obviously.” 

“I was thinking about meeting privately in a separate location.” 

A beat. 

“Public enough to not raise attention but quiet enough as well, I gather.” 

“You know me.” 

Ursa started to head towards the gardens, Ito was probably overwhelmed at this point. It was better to let him rest for a bit. 

_Wait, I haven’t told him yet... Well, might as well have fun with it._

“Oh, and one more thing.” 

“Yes?” 

“Fire Lord Azulon believes I would be a good wife to his son.” 

“... The world feels fake.” 

“Yep.” 

Ursa’s relationship with the Chief was simple, they don’t talk about duties nor of secrets between them. Just two people of around the same age, who suddenly have more responsibility than the rest of their family, and are freaking out because ‘ _by-the-Spirits-there-truly-isn't-a-manual-to-adulthood-is-there?’._

Friendship, truly, can be found everywhere. Her quick to flare emotions and his own late to reach, but in terms of practicality they both were masters on their own right, they _had_ to. 

And if they functioned in opposite ways, but worked well enough together as for it to be beneficial? Well, the Throne might just be using them, but they are de disciples of the dragons. They have fangs too. 

Ursa is just hoping that they aren’t biting more than what they can chew. 

* * *

Chief Ito decides to stay for a few days, partially to speak further with Ursa, and partially because _‘Ursa not everyone can simply order a carriage, most of us have to walk or ride an animal’._

Ursa will deny offering a carriage as an apology, only to realize that she is only proving Ito’s point. And later she decides to just make sure Ito’s mongoose lizard is well taken care of. 

Besides, Ursa knew what they had to talk about, she had her own questions too. 

No matter how deep their friendship was, the Chief was in charge of the Sun Warriors. He had a duty, and he was willing to carry it no matter what. 

They had to inform the Masters. 

Which meant involving all of the remaining Warriors. 

Truly, this week couldn’t get any better, could it? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I use writing to vent my feelings, how can you tell? 
> 
> Truly, not everything in this story is meant to be angsty, but until the fifth chapter or so? This is kind of emo, but I don't really want to apologize for it??? 
> 
> I don’t really have an upload schedule, and this is my first year of Uni (although, Uni here is more easy-going than in Nort America or Europe), and my mental state is a bit of a disaster. But I promise I will do my best to upload at least once per month. 
> 
> Anyway, was this a filler chapter? Mostly, yeah. But I felt guilty for leaving this for so long. 
> 
> I also hope the OCs don’t bother much, but Ursa’s backstory is basically empty unless you read the comics. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> 26/10 EDIT: uhh, I forgot to mention that exam week is starting here. I finally understand why people consider college = hell :)
> 
> They literally added more stuff to an essay the night before the due day??! Is that legal?? At least they gave extra days. Thanks quarentine.
> 
> Next chapter will hopefully be up by the end of the second week of November. Some writers are really talented and write anyways? I have a peanut sized brain, and a box of Unsolved Trauma™ that make doing that kinda difficult.
> 
> No, I won't abandon the story. Writing is very important for my mental health, but I also care about the quality of it very much. Writing chapters while focusing on other things won't give the standard that I have (however mediocre it might be).
> 
> Thankfully, the things that I am studying will help develop the world building of this story (sociology and philosophy especially), so I hope that I can show my new knowledge on latter chapters.
> 
> So, yeah, shitty update. Don't know how many people will read this, but I feel the need to tell anyone that might read this about it anyway. Thanks for all the support this story has gotten, I cannot even begin to describe how much it means to me. I will do my best to make you all proud :D
> 
> Anyway, take care <3


	3. To start a pyre

_What’s the meaning of fire?_

Truly, it is a childish question. Fire will always be just that, a reaction, an event to be watched, respected. Humanity has always had an admiration for things that burn, that keep the monsters and shadows of the night away. 

The cold palace of Caldera towered over the capital. The gentle light of the luminous clock in the sky accompanied by the stars, signified the time where work was over, and yet the Crown Prince laid awake. 

Iroh doesn’t regret meeting Lady Ursa. He might be a bit _eccentric_ , to say the least. But he is quite sure that there’s an aspect about fire itself the Nation has forgotten. 

He has some theories but... 

Well. 

He hopes they are just theories. 

Because not even the entire Fire Nation, with its best benders and non-benders alike can win against the Spirits themselves. 

_(He prays to Agni, to the_ Spirts _, that it is just his imagination. He doesn’t know how to feel, what to_ do _, if every drop of blood he shed was-)_

_May Agni’s light forever shine upon the nation._

Truly, Iroh is first a father, a Prince second. His duty is to Lu Ten, the final gift from his late wife. 

He will be torn apart in the strongest of blizzards before letting his little boy live a life of war. 

He has already seen too many young soldiers - just boys truly - lost on the battlefield to get even the faintest whisper of what burring your child might be like. 

It’s one of his worst nightmares. 

* * *

Ito didn’t expect this when he woke up. 

All of his life, he has had one goal: keep the Sun Warriors alive. He didn’t have- he wasn’t _allowed_ to have another goal. His parents, his family all of them sacrificed themselves for their duty. Now he must do the same. 

Sometimes, he wonders, how was it to live in his grandfather’s time? Did dragons truly live alongside men? Did the walls of the temples truly shine just as brightly as the Sun? Did they feel how the clock was moving towards _change_ , like Ito does, or were they blissfully unaware of what was to come? 

And Ursa, where to even begin with her? 

They needed to get out as inconspicuous as possible. He is leaving with the simple but well-kept clothes that he brought for ‘just a simple tea chat’, he is not a noble, people aren’t going to pay attention to him. Thus, his clothes are meant to reflect that, a simple system truly. 

Ito is not bringing anyone other than Ursa to see the Masters, the less people the better. The freezing weight of the scroll he is carrying, the used clothes of a maid that Ursa is wearing, hair in a bun and a single layer of a red dress. The sun shining bright, there’s not even a breeze out there. 

A completely normal day. 

The journey was long, if they focused mainly on stealth. It was better to separate and meet again on a different point, from there to focus on arriving as fast as possible to the ruins. 

Of course, there were risks. But they needed to get this done. 

They didn’t have time to hesitate. 

The plaza was buzzing with activity, Ito continued walking while Ursa stayed on one of the food stands, simply looking at fruits. The soldiers didn’t pay attention to them, their idle chat certainly wasn’t the most professional but Ito won’t complain about it. 

Truly, the usual struggle was not getting accidentally lost during the rush hours, it wouldn’t be too complicated to distract any possible spy. 

The invisible hunting started the moment the Throne became aware of their existence, now it was time for them to run. 

* * *

They met again inside the outer skirts of the forest leading to the city where dragons walked. By a fountain, just like they accorded. 

Still, somehow the journey felt stupidly long, be it because of the anxiety the situation caused, or because time itself simply decided to play with their lives and chose to take the longest amount of time possible until it started back again, like a machine needing oil and a good kick to function. 

Nothing would surprise Ursa at this point. 

The trees then surrounded them, their little team favouring nature over civilization in a desperate effort to avoid getting caught if there were anyone following them. 

Considering they were two firebenders and a hunting animal, knowledge of the area, and one with a fair amount of Imperial training; and even then, they didn’t _feel_ as if there was anyone following them, there was probably no one following them. 

Probably. 

However, just because they didn’t feel it doesn’t mean it wasn’t a possibility. 

And so, they wandered among the trees, silence overtaking any chance for conversation, only birds and the wind were heard. 

Normally, it would take a full day to reach the ruins by foot, but they had a reason to hurry and something to carry them, although it wasn’t as effective as it could have been by having two animals instead of one. 

It took more time walking inside the cities than reaching their destination, but they made it by nightfall. Usually, there’s a group of people designated for nightly patrols, but neither of them is feeling social. 

The Sun Warriors don’t really divide their activities by gender (something that thankfully has carried over to the rest of the Fire Nation, although the Nobility, as per usual, likes to complicate things and feel special about it), so while sleeping in the same house as Ito is rather unorthodox to Ursa... 

They are _exhausted_ , and the joy has barely begun. 

Ito’s personal house is rather large (by their rather simple standards, that is), it’s separated from the rest of his family, but only by a short walk. The walls are their usual colour of light brown, the house itself is not large at all, it has a bedroom and a kitchen, the bathroom is separated from it entirely. 

All in all, a normal house here, the only mayor signs of importance are it is built from rock rather than wood, and that the outside decorations are the faintest of whispers of what the structure from temples in the Ruins are. 

She wonders if she will ever see the Chief live in the actual Palace meant for them. 

_Probably not_ , she thinks. 

“We will tell them the news in the morning,” Ito said, his first words in a long time that weren’t basic signals of ‘rest’ or ‘water’. “I’ll need to talk to the rest of my family first. Mom will be specially _thrilled_ by this.” 

The mattress is rather old, a single sheet of white, not soft but not that far from what one might call rough. 

Normally, being here, with her people, would calm her. Normalcy, however, seemed to be eclipsed. 

There’s a single fire, it’s on Ito’s hands, the only light in the house. Ursa simply closes her eyes, imagining being under the sun, trying to match her breathing to Agni’s eternal light. 

She simply exists for a couple of minutes, she is aware she should be overwhelmed, and she is sure she will be, later. She has found this is rather common recently. For now, she is just breathing, on a bed, at night. 

It eases her, some of the sheer everything. It’s not enough, but at least she can sleep for a few hours afterwards. 

* * *

Her home shouldn't feel like this. 

Or rather say, she shouldn’t feel like this in her home. 

Even with the Chief’s permission to discuss the alliance with Ran and Shaw, Ursa feels as if she was throwing everything she believes in to the deep Ocean. To be lost in the dark, where not even fish live. 

Agni’s light is shining, the Masters are already waiting for them. The ritual for calling them is a formality that’s only used when they need to test if a Warrior is ready for formal training. 

Ursa is with the Chief, they don’t need to wait for them, they can simply _go_ to them. 

Ran and Shaw were awake, simply basking in the closeness of each other, there are rays of light coming from the irregularities of the cave they are inside of. In their old age, the Masters prefer to simply rest. 

_(They will die soon, but that’s not-)_

Dragons, rather obviously, don’t _talk_. They don’t need to, they are descendants of one of the four main Spirits, their ties to spirituality will always be strong. 

After all, the world has always paid attention to all Spirits and those close to them, despite their usual lack of care towards humans. 

_(let it be known, however, that the attention is not always good)_

Dragons prefer to show images, to show feelings. It’s a rather strange experience, to touch emotions and hear colours, especially when they do it through fire. As that’s their domain, you won’t be burnt unless they _want_ to burn you. 

When they get close, they aren’t quite as much acknowledged, but there’s a pair of ancient eyes watching them so it’s close enough. Perhaps they too can feel that there’s something changing. 

Nevertheless, Ursa and Ito kneel, their faces meeting the unblinking eyes. It’s a private moment, were this an initiation they would have obeyed tradition and not watched, their answers are meant to be confidential. 

“Masters,” Chief Ito starts, his hesitance barely showing. “We bring news.” 

Silence and attention, the feeling of a predator watching, observing until you give a weakness. 

“The Throne wishes to marry one of our own,” he says. “They say they want peace within us both.” 

The Masters don’t respond, but they do turn their eyes to see each other, for just a moment. Then they look back at Ito, a silent ‘go on’. 

“Prince Iroh believes it would be the best if Ursa marries Prince Ozai, they get an heir and we get a confirmation of peace,” he continues. “She is the only one with enough status for it to not seems suspicious, and we get to set the details about the peace treaty ourselves.” 

A beat and then- 

_Strike._

The fire surrounds them both, circling them, the eye of the storm indeed. The flames don’t go up to their usual height - they were still inside a cave after all – but they were tall enough to pass both of the humans’ height, but not by a lot. 

_Uncertainty, apprehension, doubt._

A storm indeed, a vortex of emotions, swimming through the flames. 

A caress, the gentle heat. _‘Not your fault’_ one voice whispered through the warm air. It felt like laying under the Sun at noon, simply basking at the warmth of Agni’s light. 

And yet, the other said _'Your choice, we can protect ours if needed'._ And this one felt like a shield, like the comforting weight of a sword, neither good nor evil, simply dependent of the will of the wielder. 

The heat increased, for just a second, a decision was made, and then it went back down. The after image of the palette of colours, the warm air, all remained as a silent confirmation of reality. 

The voices joined, their sound felt like the gentle crackling of a campfire. Controlled, comforting, and warding all danger of the unknown away. 

_‘We always do.’_

Ursa knew she had many things to do, because while she is not alone through this whole disaster, _she_ is the one who will go through it all. _Ursa_ is the one whose life will be permanently affected, a single sacrifice for the many, it sounds easy like that when she knows it will be nothing _but_ easy. 

What an odd situation, to be immolated for the chance to change it all. 

_(_ _Ursa worries the fire will_ _burn her to ashes_ _if she commits a single mistake)_

And yet her heart, as she watched all the colours of the world spiral around them, was set aflame, and oh, how it burned. 

She is not certain she will ever _be_ fine with this situation, but she will make the best of it. 

Ursa is a warrior, and a scholar, after all and this battle must be won through words. 

_She is not sure she will win but, Spirits, will she try._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear that I'm not dead, as I have said in the other part of this series ("In the garden").
> 
> Uhh, hi?
> 
> Yeah, mental health issues, plus that I just couldn't find enough motivation to finish this monster of a project that "A mother's love" was meant to be at the start.
> 
> So, there have been some narrative changes, mostly in the how I want to deliver things. 
> 
> In the end, I have decided that I will focus on "To immolate" in a different way, it's better if this part is mostly used to give a proper backround to the series, and to explore character we didn't get much of in the show (I don't really like making OC's a big narrative point), like the Sun Warrior Chief and Ursa.
> 
> Soon I will update the chapter count, but I believe this will be much more efficient, and then in the rest of the series (probably in one shots or in short series) we will get more of Zuko and Azula (plus, maybe the Gaang, eventually).


	4. chatting as the storm ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW! Internalized racism, implied ethnic cleansing, mentioned forced assimilation of native groups. Further information in the notes below.

There’s a general consensus among Ito and Ursa, around other people, they play their roles. Chief and noble Lady through it all. 

While alone, however, is another thing. 

“We still have to tell the rest of the Warriors.” Ito said, like the cruel man he is. 

“We _just_ talked to the Masters, give me a minute to process it.” 

The man _dares_ to sigh. 

“Ursa, I know you don’t get along with most of the Warriors, but by Agni, we got here yesterday and life is not going to wait for us.” 

“Well, yes, that too. But are you the one that has to _bed_ Prince Ozai?” 

Ursa knows she is being overly emotional about this whole thing, but perhaps this is like the stages of grief. Denial has been killed by General Iroh at the first day of this disaster, and its body was buried in her house’s gardens. Depression was an all-too-heavy coat she couldn’t take off no matter how hard she tried, the deep feeling of _wrongness_ this all had, and it seems it has been cut into pieces in the recent hour. Still there, heavy for the life she could have lived without this but lighter. 

It’s seems that she is getting into anger, changing her life out of nowhere with no real way to refuse tends to do that. 

Still, Ito’s face is worth thinking about marrying that royal walking machine that is parading around Caldera as a human. 

“You’ll bring that up whenever you want an excuse for something, won’t you?” 

Ah, the familiar banter is just what she needed. 

Ursa smiles in lieu of an answer. 

“Let’s spar later,” she says instead. “I need to kick your ass.” 

Ito just huffs, as if she is the highest form of irrationality. 

“As if you could.” 

And for now, that’s enough. 

* * *

The Sun Warriors didn’t live in the Ruins, despite of what one might think. 

Yes, the structure is available. Yes, they patrol the area. Yes, it’s probably quite safe to do so. Yes, some _wish_ to do so. 

But, then again, some people decide that they want to see the ruins of the once Golden City. To check if there are Dragons to kill and honour to gain. 

Ursa has very specific plans for those rare - but stubbornly appearing once a year or so - utter _morons_. 

Seriously, the Ruins are supposed to be that. _Ruins_. What do they think they will get from it? Pick up some old, Sun Warrior energy or something? 

Still, the point is that most of the Warriors simply live deep inside a clearing of the nearby forest. Most houses are made of wood, rather alike to modern towns, but many of the more communal cities are constructed with the traditional structure seen in the Ruins. The area is divided by group of houses, which are mostly decided by the family that lives in that sector, and by the main sites like the communal garden, the tiny market and the fairly big library. 

Of course, there are some buildings that they chose to not reconstruct and rather use those in the Ruins, like the temples or the main observatory. 

It’s an odd combination of the old tradition and modern structure, of close and firm buildings made of rocks and fire, and separate structures made of wood. 

_(Rather fitting for a group of people that never fit quite well enough anywhere, and some don’t even fit_ here- _)_

And considering that there isn’t many Sun Warriors alive, the main community is just under a hundred and fifteen. Others are more like Ursa and come and go as they want, rather than simply deciding to strictly live here, adding to the wonderful number of two hundred and seventy people total. 

Not a lot but it's the highest number they have had in decades. 

It is odd, knowing that the Ruins could be more than enough for all of them, and yet never living in the place where they feel the most connected to. 

Which, brings to the _actual_ main point. 

Beating Ito’s arse. 

They are currently in a separate clearing, a good fifteen-minute walk from the nearest communal area, and because they are not _idiots,_ they are just above five minutes away from the nearest healer. 

“Is he really that bad?” Ito asks. 

“Who?” 

“Prince Ozai.” 

She remembers the cold eyes, the pompous attitude, the general lack of _care_. 

“He is like a machine walking, like those dumb projects those engineers are getting of automated beings. Full metal, no soul.” 

Ito huffs, and starts stretching. 

“I always thought that was a dumb idea, how can something _move on its own_ without it having a soul?” 

Ursa too starts stretching, grinning to herself when she beats him in flexibility. 

“Apparently it’s theoretically possible,” she says. “Maybe there will be one day a machine that can kick your arse simply because it’s what it's what is meant to _do._ ” 

“And then what? Simply burn them, metal is weak to heat.” 

Personally, metal reminds Ursa too much about military armour. And _that_ wonderful creation reminds her too much about Osamu. 

_(there’s a part of her that wonders, what would her late brother have said about this whole situation._

_More probably, he is laughing at her misfortune in the Spirit World, they never got quite along at the end)_

So, she just simply changes the theme of the conversation. 

“At least he is not ugly to look at. He has all those regal features, royalty practically oozes out of him, but he has _that_ general aura about him.” 

“How so?” 

“Oh, you know, the ‘I don’t care who you are, I am better than you’ while actually _looking_ like he is better than you, but also having the personality of a smelly Komodo dragon shit.” 

Ito simply considers this for a minute. 

“We don’t need to do this, Ursa.” 

And that actually surprises her. 

“Wha- Of course we do, the Throne is aware of us, we are fucked unless we do something about it, Ito.” she says, not quite understanding where he is coming from. 

“No, I don’t want you to ruin your life simply because you think there’s no way out of this,” he starts. “Ursa, once you marry him, it’s done. You will be part of Court, you will have to attend all those Ceremonies you barely care about, your whole life will be around the Royal family, and that’s- I don’t want you to sacrifice your entire existence.” 

It is sweet of him, to think that she can actually refuse. 

And also, naïve, but nativity is a product of hope. Hope that the world is not as bad as it seems, what a wonderful thing to still have. 

“Ito, you’re being a wonderful friend right now. But you’re also the Chief,” she says instead, in the calmest tone of voice she can while her heart softens and _cracks_ at the same time. “A good person does not make a good leader, nor does a good leader make a bad person. You _have_ to think about the wellbeing of the whole community before your friends, no matter what.” 

Ito knows this, of course he does, but to still try to give another option is quite nice of him. 

As the Chief, if there’s a way to stop any despair of the clan, to assure that their future is secured for at least a day more, then he _has_ to take it. 

Reluctantly, he accepts this with a nod. 

And then he stands up, with his hands on his hips, looking all high and mighty. 

“I guess I will have to beat you so thoroughly than you won’t be capable of forgetting it.” _-that you won’t forget me_ , is what he doesn’t say, but it’s heard anyway. 

Ursa stands up, comfortable and ready to battle. 

“Oh, please. As if I forget those that are worth my strength,” she says, knowing that to Ito feelings are equal to hives. “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

And then they begin, sparring together has always been something they have done. Ever since Ursa first met Ito, fire has always been between them. 

Ito is the first to throw fire, punching it towards her in a rather testing manner. 

He tends to hesitate at the start, despite Ursa telling him that is an obvious opening. 

She simply lets it come close, and cuts through it with her arms, flames quickly dissipating with nothing to burn. Ursa lowers her knees, building her balance, and throws a sure kick that sends fire to him. 

He blocks it with his arms in a crossed shape, and then he makes the fire vanish with a swift split of his hands. 

The style they prefer is rooted to earth like Sozin’s style of bending, but the flexibility and the adaptability of their movements is inspired from waterbending, and the whirl of flames they control is from airbending. 

Of course, they can’t show this to anyone else, even if a firebender has only completed their first set of _kata_ , they would be able to tell that this is something completely different. 

_(That is, if they subtle_ _splashes_ _of colour, of_ emotions _, don’t already mark them as other._

_It is so annoying to force oneself to be blank while_ _firebending_ _, and all that you get is a mediocre red flame, at least when you have anger it whispers colour into your fire.)_

Nor can they really go all out, they aren’t in proper training grounds, too much wood nearby for that. 

Despite it all, Ursa roots her stance grabs her will with her hands, and sets it on fire. Creating a simple line on each middle finger, only to tend elongate it to form two long whips. 

She prefers the flexibility of water rather than air, it shows in her bending. 

Ito simply roots his stand firmer, he prefers to observe and then act accordingly, he would make a terrifying earthbender. 

Ursa smiles. 

If fighting with fire is a battle of whose will is stronger, then sparring with fire is another thing completely, knowing when to push and when to stop. It’s a spar, not an actual battle, restraint is the most important part. 

Creating fire is easy, but controlling it? 

Precision is difficult for all benders, but Ursa thinks that fire is especially difficult. 

So, sparring is in fact a rather dangerous game of seeing who falters first and then lowering the intensity of the flame yet still throwing it, marking a win. 

Not all benders love to battle, and not all non-benders prefer tranquillity. 

Ursa however, _loves_ fire. 

And so, she coiled her arms, giving the whip force and then she lashed it onto where Ito would be if he hadn’t dodged. So, she moves the closet whip to him ever so slightly to barely hit him making him marginally stagger. 

The flames aren’t quite hot, but it would still feel like dipping into a sauna in a rather suddenly. 

Laughter sprang from her, as she saw Ito’s miffed face. 

“Just so you know, I’m totally counting that.” she said. 

Ito just scoffs knowing well that she is just kidding, then he lowers his centre of gravity, and quickly began to move far from her. Whips can be quite harmful when one is so near them, and Ursa excels at _control_ , not raw power. 

There’s only so much her fire can reach. 

_Brat_ , she thinks, as she chases him around the plain. Her whips never quite reaching, but his attacks missing by a hair’s length. 

Then, Ito’s movements become quicker, his amounted momentum letting him throw a small ball of fire at a staggering speed, leaving no other option than _ducking, and fast_. 

Ursa _knows_ than he would never harm her intentionally, but it’s better if a bender has a healthy level of respect and awareness for one’s element. 

So, she lets the rather undignified groan be heard, and when Ito comes nearer, she kicks a line of fire at him. 

It’s barely an attack, and Ito safely dodges, but he trips over a rock on the ground. 

_Why is he so distracted?_

Ito looks rather sullen, like this will be their last spar. 

As if an arranged marriage of all things is capable of making her forget about a friendship of almost two decades. 

“Oh whoops, I guess we will have to fight again,” she says, with a firm but teasing voice, a promise. “I hate draws.” 

If this were a normal spar, Ito would have simply said something along the lines of _‘as if that was an actual point, you idiot’_. Todays, however, is not a normal spar. Ito’s eyes are a little too bright, and he is probably thanking the Spirits for his rather tanned complexion. 

“Of course,” he answers, his voice is surprisingly normal for a man that looks ready to cry. “I will win next time.” 

_Fuck it_ , Ursa thinks. _I don’t care how I do it, but I’m making sure this man is the Uncle to my kids_. 

The Crown is planning something. _What_ exactly, the don’t know. But if they are going to risk everything, they are going to do it _right_. 

* * *

“I can’t believe we are doing this.” Ito said, he looked so out of place in his recently put on layered attire. The deep red was not fancy - not for the upper class- but they were clearly the most formal clothes he owned. 

Ursa thought he looked better without the upper robe that seemed to so ill fit on him, she will convince him to go to a tailor, eventually. 

She had offered to get him ah, more _appropriate_ attire. Or simply lend one of her Dad’s robes. But she was met with ‘ _If they want to meet the Chief, they are getting the Chief and not a man that’s playing their game_.’ 

She can’t fault him for that. 

Besides, they needed to not seem suspicious to everyone else. In this tiny but private wooden room, formality had to be reduced to simple details like an extra layer of a good robe over what you wore outside, a clean appearance, and maybe jewellery if you liked it. 

Still, the reactions of the rest of the Warriors were rather... 

Well, it could have gone worse. 

They explained to Ito’s family, distrust is a euphemism in their case. But they also decided to ask to most of the families that chose to live near the Ruins permanently, as they would be the main group affected. Those who switch back and forth (between the clan and their formal homes in the rest of the Nation) that were there were asked, were slightly more agreeable than the rest. 

Still, _no one_ was happy this happened. 

Some were angered by the sheer prospect of the treaty, others simply wanted to accept before the Fire Lord changed his opinion. 

Although, she was right during that tryst, none of the Sun Warriors want to be made public. The reasons vary from the discrimination due to their ancestry (the last years of Sozin’s reign were rough, to say the least), to protecting the Masters. 

“I don’t think we are going to be ready for this, ever really. But we must do this anyway,” she said, because while she is usually the one in distress (or rather say, being dramatic), she is indeed capable of being the voice of reason. “The deal they offered could be better but its more than we have, well, ever gotten really.” 

Thankfully that’s what these meeting will be about, polishing this whole thing. 

And that’s what lead them to sit here, in the private room of a middle-class restaurant. Simply waiting for the Crown Prince to appear, hopefully in disguise. 

It feels rather like the beginning of a joke. A man that should not exist while being the embodiment of dead traditions, a middle (but rather high ranking) Noble Lady, and the Crown Prince, in a restaurant. 

Perhaps in another life Ursa would have been an actress, and this is the inspiration for a comedy play. Or maybe the Spirits are laughing at them, who knows. 

_(It’s probably both)_

And so, they wait. 

And wait. 

And wait- 

“Is he not coming?” Ito asked. 

Ursa furrowed her brows, she focused on her breathing and on the Sun, and well- 

It’s been ten minutes. 

“The Sun barely moved, dumbass.” she said. 

Ito just raised an eyebrow, looking like the most bored man on the whole nation. 

“I thought that _we_ were the ones that moved around the Sun.” he answered, clearly lacking respect for _actual comedy,_ _I swear to the Spirits above, Ito. Why am I friends with you?_

Thankfully, she only rolls her eyes before the door opens, and in comes a small but muscular man with a straw-hat (inside a restaurant, _sheesh,_ _where are your manners?_ ), simple and common red robes, and sandals. 

The perfect picture of a commoner. 

If the commoners were unaware of dressing codes, even the _actually_ written ones. Because despite of what one might think, even the poorest person is aware of social rules and has a general idea of what’s fashionable. 

A poor person is not unaware nor stupid, but rather tends to prioritize utility over anything else. 

Ursa barely resist the urge to just _stare_. 

“Ah, I made it in time.” says General Iroh, first born of Fire Lod Azulon, grandson of late Fire Lord Sozin, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. A fire bender whose skill is unmatched in the battlefield, and whose tactics are efficient, if not _brutal_. 

While running late. 

_Oh, this will be great_ , she thinks. 

* * *

_The General of the West likes Oolong Tea._

Bizarre, just, bizarre. 

They are sitting, acting as if this is a nice chat, and not deciding the future of all the clan. 

_Ugh, politics_ , Ito thinks. 

“General Iroh,” Ursa starts, not showing any hesitance she might feel. “This is the Chief of the Sun Warriors, Ito.” 

Ito knows how he looks like, he has sharp and tall bones, he is well trained and it shows through his appearance. He knows he is not good enough for the court, with his tanned skin and dark copper eyes. It wouldn’t matter if he was royalty; he was, is and will be judged for something he had no choice over, and not his actual _actions_. 

People are stupid. 

Nevertheless, he shows his most polite smile and somehow manages to get through a “ _It’s a pleasure to meet you, General.”_ without feeling like combusting on the spot. 

Ito decided that it would be for the best if he lets Ursa guide him through all the pleasantries that politics demands, so he simply nods at her, and then listens until he has something so say. 

To him, it’s a good deal. The Sun Warriors get to legally own the land that expands from the Ruins to the plains in the forest where the living stations are, like private property. They would mostly be left alone. However, that also means that they would need to gather their own food and defences, which is not bad considering that they have been doing that for far longer than the Throne has existed. 

Still, there are some details that need to be polished. 

“What about the army?” Ursa asks. “Do they get the right to enter if they need to?” 

Prince Iroh seems thoughtful for a couple of seconds. 

“Well, unless it is expressly needed, then no. It would be officially your territory.” he says. 

Ito struggles not to frown at that, Ursa had told him that showing emotions could get the other party an idea of how to manipulate those feelings to their needs, and he gets the feeling that he should listen to her. 

“Would you give some examples to what those needs may be?” Ito says, already getting an idea but hoping that he is wrong. 

General Iroh just looks at him for a minute, like he is figuring something out from just that statement. 

“The terrain would be completely private to you unless there were a need for military movement inside of it, like if there were invaders or international military forces there,” he says, like it wouldn’t be the easiest excuse for a ‘through investigation’ to simply say that the Throne suspected that there were traitors there, or that external forces were hiding in the forest. “I imagine that you already have a system in replacement for police work, so they wouldn’t interfere with that.” 

Ursa seems to consider that, the she looks over to Ito with an expression that simply reads ‘it’s your choice’. 

_Well, that’s..._

Alright, imagine the worst-case scenario and work around that. 

“What would those forces do in case those conditions are met?” 

Prince Iroh’s eyes seem oddly interested with that question. 

“Harm wouldn’t come to any of the Warriors, Chief Ito,” he says, pauses for a beat. “Unless they were traitors of course.” 

“Of course,” Ito says. “The Sun Warriors are loyal to the Fire Nation.” 

Ursa smiles placidly and nodded in agreement. 

Ito carefully didn’t say that they are loyal to the Fire Lord, but he knows that he was judged from the moment the General entered the room. If he has to play the role of clueless peasant, then so be it. 

“Good,” General Iroh says, maybe he noticed what was unsaid or maybe he didn’t. “It would be a pity to sully such spiritual sites.” 

He sounded genuine, it’s a fact that the oldest Prince always took care of putting funeral pyres even to enemies. That he is spiritual is a surprise to no one. 

That he considers the Ruins as spiritual _is_ one. 

Especially considering the _treatment_ the Warriors received while Sozin decided to hunt Agni’s children as a sport _._

The Fire Nation considers all of those different from their three main categories as bad. You have the nobles, the soldiers, and then the common folk; people cannot be characterized in just three ways, like the middle-ranged nobles, but there’s a difference between being in between and being complete _uncounted._ If you don’t fit, you will either be used as cannon folder in the army or will live as a thief in the streets. 

And that’s those are the nice options. 

_(And if there’s a notable difference in the appearance compared to the nobles to some of the soldiers and commoners, whose skin can be rather tanned, and their eyes copper like Ito’s._

_Exactly like Ito’s._

_Well, sometimes forgetting is safer.)_

“What about Ursa and her family?” Ito asks, deciding to change the subject completely to avoid thinking further. “Would they still be able to visit?” 

That surprised Prince Iroh, although it was quickly wiped away. 

“Their family is already known to visit the wildlife during holidays, it wouldn’t be shocking that they would simply continue the tradition.” 

Here, Ursa’s lips pursed, and her eyes locked with General Iroh’s. 

“What about my future children? Would they be able to visit as well?” 

The Prince softens ever so slightly. 

“You will be a wonderful mother, Lady Ursa,” he says. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with their royal duties, they would be allowed to visit.” General Iroh pauses. “Although I doubt that my brother will want to join them.” 

Ursa turns thoughtful, her brows furrow and has to visibly take a breath before asking more. 

“Would he be able to forbid my children from going?” she says. “It’s very important to our culture that children familiarize themselves with our traditions.” 

Ito knows that they probably won’t be able to teach the kids (by Agni, _Ursa’s kids_ ) the complete set of traditions. There aren’t many children with the Sun Warriors, but those that are there don’t meet the Masters until they are about twelve, children aren’t particularly good at keeping secrets. 

Then he imagines a five-year-old kid, barely producing smoke (and that’s with _luck_ ), blurting out things about scales and dragons to the Fire Lord, he barely suppresses his shudder at that. 

That doesn’t mean that they won’t raise them with their culture. Interesting things happen when a culture is isolated from others, besides the fierce reliance and trust one has to have on their clan. They would still teach them their version of bending, their foods, their sports, how to track solstices and equinoxes... 

Prince Iroh sighs. 

“I doubt that he would try, unless they interfere with their duties as I’ve said, but those don’t start until the offspring are near adolescence.” he answers. “But I will mention it to the Fire Lord, if it’s important to your culture then.” 

“Thank you.” she says, with her golden eyes shining bright. 

Really, they shouldn’t trust the Crown, but they better make the best of an awful situation. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Sun Warrior architecture was based from Mayan architecture, which is strange considering the whole series is inspired in Oriental philosophy and spirituality rather than Western cultures but well. The Sun Warriors are very odd in canon, appear once and that’s it. 
> 
> So, I decided I wanted to include the repercussions of basically erasing a whole culture from existence (as the SW were dead by “thousands of years” according to Zuko), which is how we get into colonization and ethnic cleansing. Aang wasn’t aware of the SW either, so their culture simply wasn’t mentioned to him (which is possible, it’s very specific) or they have been “dead” for more than a century. 
> 
> I won’t be explicit with ethnic cleansing, as that is a topic that I don’t feel prepared enough to dive into, but it’s a tactic used by colonizers to conquer the territories of the victims. I imply that is what happened to the SW, but make no explicit mention of it. It’s not something I feel like I can explain, so you are welcomed to do research, but if you just want an answer, picture the Air Monks Genocide. 
> 
> On the other hand, forced assimilation, that is something that is vaguely mentioned in this chapter, with the line “sometimes it’s safer to forget”, it is again, a tactic used by colonizers to erase a culture. The victim of discrimination can either be stubborn and refuse to change, or they ally themselves with their enemies. It sounds simple like that, like something foolish but it’s not. 
> 
> When your style of living has been stopped, when your life suddenly changes, and you are lost in what to do to fix it; simply adapting seems easier, safer. Literally sometimes. Discrimination can easily affect a person, and it can range from comments and glares to outright violence, you decide what “safe” in this case means. 
> 
> But yes, forced assimilation is a common response, especially by native groups. It’s a slow killer, decades are needed to see the effects, and the worst part is that it makes sense to the victim to act like that. Why pass down the language that will make your children a target? Why tell the stories that will alienate you children? Why pass down the traditions that made you a target in the first place? If they “pass” in the eyes of the colonizer, why inform them of their heritage? And even if they don’t pass, why bother? 
> 
> That’s how you actually kill a culture, violence is just the first step, you need to convince the victim that it’s just better to not exist. 
> 
> To Immolate was meant to be a cute story, fluffy, and everything. Then I realized that canon never addressed more of the SW, and if I was going to make references to native rights then the least I could do was make references to the actual damage done to a so called “dead” culture.


	5. to whiter under the sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW! Mentions of cultural ereasure, plus the beginning of the actual arranged marriage.

The fire in the throne room was lit, reflecting through the dark and polished marble. The pillars simply remarked the importance of the lone figure behind the flames. 

And yet the figure wasn’t alone, as a man kneeled in from of him. 

“What’s your impression of her, Prince Ozai?” asked the Fire Lord in a tone that wasn’t quite a question, but rather unwavering. 

The Prince thought about it for a few seconds. 

“She is powerful, but in a controlled way,” he began. “She seemed calm for someone who was offered to marry a Prince despite begin inferior to him.” 

Prince Ozai wasn’t questioning the Fire Lord, but seemed rather irked by the situation. 

“Lady Ursa is not inferior to you, Prince Ozai,” Fire Lord Azulon began, if he was bothered by the conversation the wall of fire didn’t show it. “She is descendant of powerful benders, has a high social standing, and knows how to navigate the court.” 

“She is barely a noble, Father.” 

The wall of flames moved as the figure behind them breathed deeply, in a rather annoyed manner. 

“Prince Ozai, you seem to forget about your brother. _Crown Prince_ Iroh already has an heir,” Fire Lord Azulon said instead. “Prince Lu Ten is a remarkable young man.” 

_He is twelve_ , the Prince thought. _Shouldn’t I have a bigger right than him?_

Alas, as Prince Lu Ten is a direct son of the Crown Prince, Prince Ozai’s social standing has been altered, and to think that _that_ began when he was barely ten. 

Prince Ozai was doomed from the start, as his father had him only a decade before Prince Iroh had an heir. 

Especially considering that the Fire Lord himself is pleased with the boy. 

As the second born, and as a noble whose older brother already has an heir, marrying one of lesser social standing is accepted. 

And Prince Ozai has been discarded for the newest promising Prince before he even started wearing a topknot. 

Still, he is sure his Father knows something he doesn’t. While Lady Ursa’s reputation is satisfactory, it is rather sudden for such a middle-ranged noble to marry him. 

_She is a scholar, for Agni’s sake_. 

As if his Father was reading his suspicion, he sighed. 

“The war won’t last much more, Prince Ozai,” the Fire Lord said, with the tone of someone who has had to explain a topic in various ways and then to be still be met with doubts. “You will see times of peace in your lifetime, you will need the help of the well-read individuals to assure the future of the Nation.” 

Prince Ozai considered that for a minute. 

Lady Ursa is hiding something, apparently something important enough to overlook her rank. 

Oh, the Fire Lord gave good reasons, all perfectly capable justifications. But he is a _Prince_ , discarded or not, he could have better prospects if he so wished to. 

Although the majority of higher ranked Scholars aren’t benders, and the Royal family needs to have fire in their veins. 

_Well_ , Prince Ozai thought, _at least she is rather beautiful_. 

Not that he considered that important, but if he has to be tied to someone, he would rather have someone that suits him. 

She also seems like the kind of person that would rather consider her actions first and then act. 

And she is better than his other... prospect. 

As if Prince Ozai would marry a commoner, relative of the Avatar or not. 

They had asked that Fire Sage to see _more_ , what other options they had, even his brother seemed to desire another choice. Despite all his weird tendencies, Prince Iroh was raised a royal, and will die with honour. 

And they had a result, the Fire Nation will shine brighter than ever with the help of a firebending scholar with golden eyes, and dark brown hair. That same fire that will slowly decrease, as if wind willed it, to almost an ember; only to then explode with colourful flames. 

Father hadn’t said anything about such flames, but he approves of it far more than his other possible fiancée, same with Prince Iroh. 

Lady Ursa seems to have a drive important enough to temper her flames, although she also seems like the kind of person that has _learnt_ not to be impulsive rather than a skill she naturally has. 

The real question is then, whether she is acting in a way that will benefit him or if she has to be dealt with. 

“I understand, Father.” the Prince said. 

It would be such a shame if she were to fall ill and to leave him grieving with their children after all. 

* * *

They ended up needing a couple of more discussions, simply one wouldn't be enough to even begin fixing over a century of damage. 

Moreover, the treaty talked about the future treatment of native _groups_ and _grounds_ inside of the Fire Nation, made binding as soon as it was signed. After all, the first one only referenced treatment towards _people_ , and that is just not enough. To protect the Ruins they would need a separate treaty, and they had agreed when Ursa met the Princes that the grounds are just as important as the people. 

If Ursa is going to become a simple prize to be taken, then she will make sure that her worth is big enough to satisfy her. 

Ito is not quite sure of how she did it, but it probably was because when they finished drafting the second treaty, the terms where vague enough that could affect the rest of the clans as well. 

In theory. 

So, to be sure, they send a message hawk to the two remaining clans, plus a copy of the drafted version of the treaty. 

Needless to say, two more groups dealt with the panic, but both decided to agree if they could be part of further discussions. 

Ito is not quite sure how Ursa talked Prince Iroh into using a plural term for grounds and groups. Perhaps it was when she mentioned many of the Sun Warrior’s descendants don’t necessarily live with the rest of the clan permanently, or perhaps Price Iroh noticed the plural. 

His eyes twinkled when he heard it, seeming to enjoy his cup of tea even more than usual, and he agreed to it. Like a man walking knowingly into a trap. The Prince did not react negatively when Ursa mentioned that it would affect all the remaining groups, and thus, they would need copies for two more clans. 

Even more, when he knew about the terrains and quantity of people affected, he agreed to present the idea to the Fire Lord. 

Thankfully, it was agreed to include the remaining groups, inviting two more, although hesitant, ambassadors to their reunions. Two confirmed dead societies with walking men present. 

It is no surprise to anyone that they decided to remain hidden from public view, even now when their rights have become official. 

The result is that there are _three_ small sections of the Fire Nation, now private property to those native groups. It may be the case that the treaty was done so swiftly because even counting those who don’t stay permanently with their clans, their total number barely reaches a thousand. That one territory is high in a plain of a mountain near the Southern Ocean, the other inside a volcano and lastly, one in a small Northen forest near ruins, definitely helped. 

Or perhaps because Prince Iroh approved the treaty after delimitating the general area of said territories (both to delimitate how much ground was now private and to give a general margin between those grounds and the near towns). 

It is known that the Crown Prince is eccentric outside of the battlefield, and it seems that this time the Spirits favoured their luck. 

Nevertheless, the Fire Lord and his advisors are aware that if they need to enter native grounds, they need approval from the clans themselves. While that doesn’t mean that they won’t do it, the Crown Prince is the main ambassador, his decision was the one listed as the Fire Lord’s will. And that will now cannot intervene unless there is enough proof of treachery. 

It is worth mentioning that many, _many_ things that the clans do aren’t _actual_ treason. Like taking care of the remaining dragons. 

Still, it would be better if Fire Lord Azulon never finds out. Prince Iroh might be agreeable, but he is not Fire Lord.

Not yet.

It took time, a lot of it, but by the end of the next season, the treaties were signed. 

It is time for the Ursa’s part of the deal. 

* * *

So, you’re getting married. 

Your partner is a person you barely know, have only seen once but by the Spirits has that impression been _enough_. 

And you’re technically treated as an object to assure peace, and now even the future stability of the people who are the dearest to you. 

Fun. 

Nevertheless, you ponder for days and come to what you think is the best plan of action. 

If Prince Ozai is, as Ursa has already called him, a royal walking machine, what would a machine want in such a situation? 

Ursa has tried to do that thing where she empathizes with the person, but perhaps her bias is too strong and cannot even imagine the Prince having emotions. Thus, she has had to simply use what would give the him the most advantage. 

Talking to him like marriage is a business deal. 

Ursa herself has never cared too much about romance, she likes to see it, to read it, and maybe is she was a simpler woman, even to act it. Agni knows she loves plays too much that she has two main options, acting or directing. 

Perhaps in another life she would have been a wonderful actress. 

Alas, that is not this Ursa’s life, she prefers to direct. 

She does not particularly mind the ruined romance, despite what plays might make it seem, romance and dramatic displays of love aren’t _common_. Maybe when times were of peace, romance was far more usual. 

Again, that is not her situation. 

Which leads her to this, sitting in a room not quite different from the one she first met him, the dark wood and the red colour decorated by gold. The only difference being the location of the room, as it’s closer to a turtle duck pond. 

She decides that she quite likes this section of the palace for just that. 

Ursa doesn’t quite enjoy the company, needing chaperones as they aren’t yet married (as if she is in love enough to risk her chances just to do something stupid), but who have the decency to acting as if this isn’t the juiciest gossip to any and all noble at the moment, with Prince Ozai in front of her. 

Thankfully, her chaperone is her sister Akari, Ursa does not know Prince Ozai’s, but both of them are sensible enough to avoid being annoying. Choosing to sit a couple of meters from the future spouses, looking as if a funeral would be more interesting than this. 

“You have made quite the deal with the Fire Lord,” he began. “He has praised your negotiations skills.” 

Ursa takes a sip of her tea to calm her disgust at the idea of a compliment from that man. 

If there’s something that nobles have plenty and never tire of, besides money and power, is tea. Ubiquitous, copious amounts of tea. 

_He hasn’t mentioned what was negotiated_ , Ursa noted. _Does he disagree?_

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it alone, but I am pleased with the result thus far,” she comments neutrally, not taking credit for the whole thing but acknowledging the involvement. “What are your opinions of the situation?” 

Ursa does not quite clarify what situation, the marriage, the treaty, their reunion. 

She wants to see what he will choose. If it’s the treaties then he is aware of their finer details, as she doubts he would deign himself to actually ask, although he could be curious enough to investigate no matter what he says today; but if it’s their union or their shared time then she can talk about how their relationship will be. 

Prince Ozai’s eyes turn to look at her own completely, considering, his answer it seems. 

“Our union will be beneficial to the crown,” he commented, not looking surprised nor did he seem negative to it, a business partnership indeed. “Your rank will grow from Lady to Princess, you should prepare to deal with court.” 

_Ugh, court._

But he is correct, despite of how welcoming is the Fire Nation compared to others in terms of women’s rights, nobles function in a different way. If her husband is a Prince, the she better measure up without making him look weak in comparison. 

“Very well.” she finished, taking another sip of her tea, his own cup was half empty, a noble that does not like tea it seems. 

If this is their future, a façade of the perfect family, to be depicted in the Nation as a sense of pride, then they better do it right. That will require lots of meetings and even more tea, the perfect excuse for a pause in conversation. 

The clans depend entirely on her not fucking up, her bride price was a set of peace treaties describing the locations of her _people_. 

An heir from late Fire Lord Sozin, two heirs from Fire Lord Azulon, an heir from Crown Prince Iroh... 

It only seems fitting to get two heirs for Prince Ozai. 

Afterall, the Fire Nation has learnt with Sozin’s death that having two heirs is by far the most beneficial solution. 

Wouldn’t want to decent into civil war again after all. 

* * *

Inside of the palace, there’s another important person, who is simply enjoying his tea as he watches his son practice with his bending. 

He has almost mastered this advanced set of _kata_ , at such a young age he has surpassed most grown men. 

Really, Iroh couldn’t be prouder of Lu Ten. There was hesitance at first, especially by the court, with him being Iroh’s only heir. 

That was until the Fire Lord showed whose side he was in. 

Still, it is never bad to add powerful people to the family, just in case. 

Truly, Iroh likes Lady Ursa. He is quite pleased by the treaties, they had all worked hard for them, after all. 

Iroh is often called eccentric due to his spirituality, but what can you do when you’re able to see the spirits, to see what should remain unseen. Firebenders, he has come to find, have subtle marks with a wide array of red tones on them; a couple of translucent scales here, sharp claws there-but-not. Some even have slitted eyes! 

Lady Ursa, to him, has an almost complete set. Slitted eyes, claws, scales across her cheekbones... 

The more in tune one is with their element, the more they resemble the original benders, it seems. 

He truly likes her, and he hopes that she might be good for his brother. Perhaps Ursa’s nature will benefit the Crown in ways that they haven’t thought of yet. 

Still, he is a General. 

That he likes Lady Ursa does _not_ mean that he doesn’t see her value. The sacred grounds are secured, the spirits and Spirits alike are pleased, his brother’s honour is saved... 

“Father! Father, did you see?” came Lu Ten’s voice. 

General Iroh smiles, happy to spend time with his son after a job well done. 

“You’re doing amazing, Prince Lu Ten. You move with the grace of a zephyr.” he said. 

Lu Ten makes a pout, but he will deny when asked, as usual whenever he uses comparisons like that. His translucent claws, and the freckle-like scales dotting his cheeks gave him an ethereal appearance. 

“Just say what you mean, Father,” he said. “You’re just talking in circles again.” 

“Ah, but when you walk in a circle you might still see something new.” 

“Ugh, please stop.” 

Prince Iroh laughs, ah, to be young and free. 

And if they have ammunition in case that Lady Ursa tries to do something against them, well. 

That is just another good thing that has come from her, the common folk is swayed far too easily, that poor girl wouldn't have fit here. 

Because when you’re small, you have little to lose, but Ursa has offered her price and they have accepted, despite of how bitter it made them. 

She is aware of what would happen if she were to do something to betray the Nation, of course. 

* * *

They are sitting in the forest now; they are simply laying in front of a pyre outside of Ito’s house. Using a trunk of tree, watching the flames and the stars. 

Ursa never quite liked the night, but she has grown to appreciate the calm and quiet that it gives. 

She wonders if this is how the stars were discovered, named. On a starry and clear night, by people who simply could _be_. 

“Did you know that once having golden eyes was a sign of being blessed by Agni?” Ito says, like an afterthought, a whisper offered to the air just to submit something. 

This is the first time she has heard this. Ursa enjoys history, but Sun Warrior history is mostly a hazy recollection of vague events, that one knows that happened, but can’t quite express a definitive _how_. 

Most of the stories have needed to be passed vocally due to fear of getting caught, most of the time their original myths had needed to be hidden by only using the four main Spirits; or simply changing the old names to those that ‘pass’ as just tales rather than folklore, giving the same teaching but tinted red. If they are a civilization that is dead and only left dust in form of ruins, their stories should be dust as well. 

She knows that Ito’s family have the purest stories, some even with their original names instead of simply attributing everything to Agni, perhaps now they can finally sit down, and simply write. 

There _are_ old scriptures, both in the art of the Ruins and some old parchments in the library. 

No one will read it but them, no one will know about it but them. 

“No,” she whispers back, she will tell Ito about writing history later. “No, I always thought it was just from the...” 

“The nobles?” Ito huffs. “No, one of the other clans thought it was a sign of change, and I guess they were right. Things have changed.” 

Ursa doesn’t ask how that clan is today, the Sun Warriors aren’t the _only_ living native group from the Fire Nation, but sometimes it is easier to not ask. 

It is easier to simply not think about how much was lost during the night, where Agni’s light cannot comfort with its daily, almost mundane, existence. 

“They did.” she agrees. 

“Perhaps, this time you will bring a good one.” 

The flames crackle, the night is clear. 

Perhaps, change will be good this time. 

_Wait, change_ , Ursa remembers something she hasn’t thought in a while. 

The Spirts — not to be confused with simple spirits — are four. Water, Earth, Fire, and Air. Their children may not be what to _humans_ children are, instead they are what the Spirits show in the physical world, while they live in the Spirit world. 

Killing their children is _not_ a good idea. 

_(There’s a reason why there aren’t many waterbenders, even before the war began, or why their lives are prone to misfortune.)_

Then, it begs the question- 

“Why haven’t the Winds attacked?” 

Ito turns to look at her, the calm has been chipped, yet it remains unbroken, private. 

“For the same reason that Agni hasn’t forsaken us completely, Ursa,” he answers. “You should have more faith in the rest of the clans.” 

Her eyes widen, the Warriors once had been taking care of _most_ dragons. Although after Sozin’s hunting sport began they had to send most of them away to one of the others clans. The Masters are special due to their age and need for extra attention, and wished to remain near the Eternal Flame, but they aren’t the only ones with them. Volcanos are dangerous for more than one reason, and there are plenty in the near areas, even more counting the rest in the country. 

And if the Winds haven’t attacked then that means that there are still flying bison somewhere. 

And apparently it is thanks to the remaining clans, _inside_ the Fire Nation. 

The one place where the Fire Lord cannot intervene in native grounds unless the clan approves it. And it wouldn’t be the first time any of the clans has _dealt_ with people to make sure they are hidden; from now on they will have to include any foreigner force. 

Her face probably shows her sheer amusement at the irony, Ito smirks. 

“They are in the south, the Bhanti take care of them.” 

The Bhanti, she knows, aren’t quite dissimilar to the Sun Warriors in techniques, but their culture is different. They focus more in spirituality, in the equality of the Spirits, and in balance. 

What better place to hide creatures that are meant to be extinct but alongside ideologies that have been too, swept away by time? 

She is not surprised Ito has kept that secret, knowledge is dangerous but it costs even more to have witnesses. 

“That’s...” she is flabbergasted, what can you say to that? “Times are changing indeed.” she enjoys the quiet of the night, before speaking again. “We should write history books.” 

“Huh?” 

“Books, history, mythology,” Ursa looks at Ito’s face, he looks relaxed, like a weight has been erased from his shoulders. “We don’t need to pretend to be ghost of history now, not anymore.” 

“We are still technically dead, you know that right?” he says. “All the clans are formally dead.” 

“History can be changed, maybe,” she breathes, trying to remain hopeful. “Maybe one day the war will end, maybe we can rewrite history then.” 

Ito’s eyes sadden, and he turns thoughtful, but he doesn’t answer, nor does he need to. Ursa knows doubt when she sees it. 

“And even if it doesn’t,” she continues. “Perhaps the next generation can grow with the true stories, not the masked tales we give to them.” 

“That’s...” he begins, but he seems to lose his words. 

Still, Ursa is glad that she was able to turn that doubt into _hope_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't plan, nor do I want to redeem Ozai. Humanize him? Yes, but I dislike the idea of redeemed abusers, just... no.
> 
> And that part where I mention that the original stories of the Sun Warriors had to be changed because they marked them as different? Yep, actual thing that happens. 
> 
> From here on, the story gets fluffier, ish. There's still some drama, but it's not as agnsty as the first chapters.
> 
> Am I the only one noticing the change in my writing style? Maybe, maybe not.
> 
> Oh... And I will regret killing Lu Ten, later. After I make him emotionally important for everyone. He has become one of my favourite characters from this series for a reason, it says a lot that the most sensible one is a twelve year old indoctrinated child, doesn't it?


	6. kindle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW! Mentioned menstruation, mentioned sex, mentioned vomiting; referenced pregnancy, basically. Stress induced weight loss is mentioned.

The night was illuminated by tender candlelight, the air where the flutes and tsungi horns sounded was pleasant if not a bit windy. The couple was at the centre of the dais, and on just slightly two lower wings at both sides were two groups; on the left, the bride’s family, on the right, the groom’s own.

After the traditional three _sake_ coups were drank, and the union was announced to Agni by the Fire Sages, it was time for the families to follow through with their own drinks.

Weddings in the Fire Nation have different dates, but since it’s widely believed that children born in Summer are stronger than the rest (blessed by Agni’s light in its strongest time), royal weddings are usually during or after the Summer solstice.

There is also the factor that Ursa knows that children don’t depend on the season that they were born, that’s dumb, but oh well.

Traditions are important for nobles.

Still, she has to say that she looks like the princess she is about to become, with her hair completely up and her layered _kimono_. Red silk as a base for her _uchikake_ , with its trail and long sleeves, that it’s loosely secured to her lets the golden embroidered flames and native flowers become a picture for others to see.

The heavy grounding weight of the kimono was welcomed, and the hairstyle she wears is making her look taller; but leaving her neck exposed felt strange. The crown section of her hair has been separated — only to be joined by the lateral sections in form of wings — into a topknot, her fringe has been styled into a small pompadour in the front.

She looks like one of those old entertainers, with her face pale and lips red, and the four pieces of matching golden ornaments — _kanzashi_ — used to decorate her hair further. Her topknot accentuated by a tall comb that has the shape of the national flame — serving as a crown — with pearls from Ember Island, and a _kogai_ at the back with a red Chrysanthemum design on its handles. The sound of the two _bira-bira_ in the sides of her hair as the wind ruffles its pieces...

The height, the extravagance, the _flame_. She has been marked as royalty.

An arm settled on her shoulders, an embrace from an unlikely source.

“Say goodbye to you family, wife,” Prince Ozai, her _husband_ , began as he kissed her cheek, words dripping like poison. “That is if you want to see them during those savage holidays of yours.”

Ah, so he _does_ know.

At least he does now.

Still, she would have rather not heard the insult. Ursa doubts that he actually cares considering that she passes, her whole family passes, so his offspring will pass too. But he has found ammunition and thus, will fire.

“I will, _husband_.” But if he thinks that he is the only one who can play that game, he is thoroughly mistaken. She nuzzles closer into the affection, even as her stomach ties into knots, giving a public show as she observes him in his attire — his black formal _haori,_ the matching attiere — her counterpart in this pretty picture.

This is a business transaction, not love, she can handle insults as long as he gives what he has promised.

They will have tea after this, and with tea comes chat about what to do in the future.

If he cannot respect Ursa as a person, then she will make him remember to respect her as an accomplice.

* * *

They _do_ end up having tea, and Ozai proves to not be an utter fool.

Two heirs, they have agreed.

Granted, the stiff wedding night will be one of the many, many robotic nights of sex; but Ursa is quite glad that after their first week, as its custom, she has gained her private bedroom, that has all the opulence of the rest of the palace but at least tries to be subtle about it.

 _Finally_ , she thinks. Sometimes it is better to be alone than to be in bad company.

She misses her family, meditating on the garden, while her sister fusses with herbs and her medicinal books. For her father to spar with her, and for her mother to simply talk about whatever her students got horribly wrong in a test.

She missed the Ruins, of walking freely, of sparring with people. Frost it, she misses messing with Ito.

And her monthly bleeding has not happened yet, it’s quite promising with its delay, but no signs have shown.

It’s not something that bothers her, she has done a lot of waiting lately, and reading.

What a quiet wife she is.

The Autumn in Caldera was beginning, she notes, as she was waiting for the ink of her letter to dry. Ursa usually gets all her meals inside her room — Spirits forbid she has family time with the other people here — so she is just enjoying a cup of tea.

Although she does have a small headache... Perhaps it’s from reading too much.

Now, she supposes, will be a good time as any to explore, and by the Spirits, she has time.

* * *

_Hello, Mother._

_Agni’s Light has been as lovely as always, but it’s quite different from Caldera. Tea is ubiquitous, but good, although I must admit that I miss drinking matcha instead of the one served here. Anyway, all tea is good tea, even better when you’ve boring conversations to go over._

_How have your classes been as of late? I was checking Love Amongst the Dragons and I wondered if the Dark Emperor is based upon that past King you told me about from the Earth Kingdom and…_

* * *

Ursa has to admit, the training rooms of the palace are _amazing_.

Wide rooms of stone and marble, not a single piece of kindle on sight, the practice figures. Simple, utilitarian, but the spare metal and scarlet decorations make it seem pretty but not distracting.

So much space! She doesn’t have to worry about damaging anything, and since she isn’t an actual important member of the royal family, she is mostly left alone with only a pair of guards outside of any training room she chooses.

Fire is life, and by Agni does she need some outlet.

* * *

The turtle duck pond was relaxing, to be simply resting on the garden. Ursa didn’t expect company, as she meditated. She is feeling rather off today, a bit dizzy...

“Ah, Princess Ursa.” a voice that she knew quite well said, you familiarize quickly with voices when you need to argue about politics.

Still, she is not used to her new tittle, nor to the weight of her golden crown even if it’s trapping her hair in the usual half way knot she wears, the weight has only changed in her mind as the crown is a dainty thing.

Prince Iroh was accompanied by a young boy, whose dark hair wasn’t yet in a topknot, simply held by a ribbon, both looking quite similar. Although it looks like the boy didn’t have late Fire princess Ilah’s short height, unlike his father, and his eyes were a dark shade of amber — almost honey-like — instead of copper.

 _This must be his heir_. It is not strange to Ursa that she hasn’t met him yet, considering that she hasn’t attended court due to her glorious honeymoon, and the palace really likes to remark its worth with its sheer size.

You would think a literal empty and collapsed _volcano_ would be smaller, but no. Apparently the caldera that is Caldera city (as people were quite creative at naming the Fire Nation capital), is big enough to capacitate such a building and more.

“Good morning, Prince Iroh.” Ursa said, formality in a place where she should call home is not something she is used to, but time will ease that.

“Good morning, it seems it’s a good time that you meet my son, Prince Lu Ten.” he seemed excited. A proud parent and ready to show it, at least his son seemed used to it, but his now rosy cheeks tell that he is embarrassed nevertheless.

Cute.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Prince Lu Ten,” she said, her tone easily changing to that used for children, warm and welcoming. “Your father is quite proud of you.”

The child seemed young, no signs of puberty yet, perhaps about eleven.

“Are you my aunt?” aw, and his voice hasn’t even dropped.

Wait.

Well...

“Yes,” Ursa answered, a tad puzzled, has this child not grown up with court? He seems awfully... normal, almost. “Yes, I am.”

The child, _Lu Ten_ , smiles.

He smiles like his father, a picture of innocence, but she knows this will not last.

Innocence for royals doesn’t die with a sudden and painful death, it is corroded slowly instead, stolen too early in her opinion.

And yet Lu Ten seems innocent.

It will not last, but she wants to make sure he stays that way, just a bit longer.

* * *

Pregnancy is supposed to be a gift.

Ursa doesn’t feel like celebrating while she is puking her brains out, but ok.

She is pregnant now.

She should feel more but she is just dizzy, whether if it’s from the pregnancy or from the nerves she is feeling constantly is up for debate.

Ursa is not used to living in the palace, it’s too big, too empty. She feels so utterly isolated.

And now she won’t even be able to use the training grounds anymore, not like before.

At least the library is nice, maybe she should freshen her knowledge of law, it could be useful...

She has read most of the plays from there already, it’s not like there’s much more. Letters are just that, letters; pieces of ink that’s dried long after the message was sent, out-dated by default.

If it’s any consolidation, she muses to herself, she has wanted to be a mother for a while.

_(but not so young, she knows)_

* * *

_Hello, Father._

_I have news, good news. You’re officially old enough to be called Grandfather. Congrats._

_Also, can Akari give me an overview of natal care again? I kind of need it more now…_

* * *

The reaction from her husband was exactly as she expected, a nod, and a silent request for more details from just a lifted eyebrow. Their tea time has reduced to being twice per week to once a week, and now has a new characteristic, silent unless needed otherwise.

But Ursa has tea time with Prince Iroh now, once a week, while they watch Lu Ten train outside.

She has been told by the healers that she should try to gain more weight, just to be safer, but it’s not like she is _trying_ to lose weight when she should _gain_ it. Her stomach was just tied into knots all the time, and the food just too… foreign.

She really has to get used to be here, if not for the baby, for herself.

Never quite hungry, never pleased by the food. The healers warned her that if she keeps like this, they will make her eat _okayu_ until she can’t taste anything else.

Nevertheless, she now has to eat dessert, even when she would really rather not.

The palace has good desserts, at least.

“Did you see that!” says Lu Ten, it was structured as a question but he was too excited and it came as an exclamation.

Ursa has to say, Lu Ten is a very talented bender. His form is fluid in a way that is rare with modern training, he has a good control of his bending, but with the sheer amount of raw power he can exude if he tries it must be overwhelming.

He needs supervision for sure, more than most benders, fire is difficult to control even if you just light a candlelight.

“It was very well done, Prince Lu Ten,” Prince Iroh said, placid in a way only rest and happiness can bring out of people. “Although, you must remember, fire comes from the lungs. You think of your breathing as fuel for your flame. Like a fan breathing it.”

Which is true, but not the main problem-

Lu Ten’s brows furrow, then he turns to look at her, waiting.

Ursa has to admit that she is surprised, but surely his father will not-

But the Crown Prince gives her an approving nod, so she is really doing this, huh?

Sure, this is not her first tea time with them, and definitely not the first student she has helped but she is surprised.

Ha, and to think that a few seasons ago this would have marked her a traitor to the clans.

Nevertheless, Ursa stands up — a hand automatically going to her growing but barely showing belly — and starts walking closer to him.

“Fire comes from the torso, yes, but the lungs are what gives it strength,” she begins. “In my opinion, it is not the way you are breathing the issue, but how often you are doing it.” she sees his confusion and continues. “You’re pouring too much fire out, thus it’s hard to control.”

“Too much fire?” Lu Ten sounds doubtful, like she is saying something that goes against everything he knows.

It just might.

“It’s not the size but the way you use it?” Prince Iroh whispers mirthfully, like the old man he is. Ursa just looks at him with a raised brow and he wisely makes a ‘sewn-mouth’ gesture.

Thankfully Lu Ten did not hear him, _good_.

“ _Great results, can be achieved with small forces_ ,” she quoted. It seems that Lu Ten got what she was referencing, at least he has competent tutors. “If you’re going to train to be a warrior, just must think like you’re in battle already.”

Still, he seemed unconvinced.

“Imagine this,” she proposed. “You’re in battle, the conditions are harsh, yet you’re fighting bravely onwards. But it has been like this for quite some time. And even when you’ve taken care of your men as a good General should, they even then won’t ever be as good rested as they are at home.” she let a beat pass as the child considered this. “A good leader shows by example, if you favour raw strength over control then your men will do so as well, even when it’s unwise.”

“She is right,” Prince Iroh said, in a solemn voice. “War is not like in plays, it’s not a concrete set of battles you know _when_ and _how_ are going to happen, it’s more like silence until suddenly the tides turn, and you fight. You might last hours on just a single battle, or you might last _months_ defending your position, and if the Spirits favour you, you won’t battle daily.”

He looked at her, seeming to agree with her point but letting her explain.

“The Spirits rarely _care_ for human matters, Prince Lu Ten,” her voice was severe, but not unkind. “Most soldiers don’t rest well, and no enemy would waste such opportunity for kindness.”

The young prince gulped, Agni, he is just a boy.

A boy trained to be ruthless, but a boy nonetheless.

And yet he nodded, hesitance not for lack of understanding, but by suddenly understanding _too much_.

“How can I-” he said, looking at his father, Ursa doesn’t know what he saw but Lu Ten turned at her. “How can I be more... controlled, Princess Ursa?”

The use of her rank instead of ‘Aunt’ marked how serious he was about this.

Very well.

She lifted one hand, and her orange fire quickly formed a dragon, soaring for just a meter and doing spins before extinguishing. Short lived, but the shape strong.

“Festival tricks?!” exclaimed Lu Ten in disbelief.

“The point is that it looks easy, but to create something _worth_ looking at, you need it to look beautiful,” she said. “There’s nothing harder and more controlled than using fire to create beauty.”

“You can get burned, you can lose concentration, you can get tired...” General Iroh said, sounding thoughtful. “Exactly like a battle.”

Lu Ten turned to look at him, seeming to wait for a demonstration.

“I’ve never done it myself,” Prince Iroh explained. “But the exercise, although unorthodox, is a good one.”

“Can you... teach me how, Aunt Ursa?” the boy asked.

Ursa blinked, a bit lost.

“Don’t you have Masters to teach you?” she asked, a little unsure.

“They don’t really, uh, _like_ unorthodox things,” he explained. “I don’t think they know how to do that.”

Huh.

“I’m not a nice teacher.” she warned.

Lu Ten nodded.

“This would count as extra training,” she continued. “You will have to keep the level you have with your Masters.”

The young prince nodded again, it wouldn’t really affect his routine and she knows it.

“Very well,” Ursa conceded. “Next week we will begin.”

Ugh, the blinding smile she got made her feel all fuzzy inside.

Brat.

* * *

The leaves were falling, the wind was flowing with grace in Caldera city. And the population that could attend was listening to this, as the Royal family — blessed by Agni — had a message to give.

It was an announcement, the Royal Plaza was filled by nobles, Generals, and more. All important people, preparing for this.

Fire Lord Azulon walked to the dais first. Followed by Crown Prince Iroh, seconded by a young prince not yet formally presented, who stood at the right of the Fire Lord. Then Prince Ozai and his wife, Princess Ursa, at the Fire Lord’s left.

The attendees held; this was important if the entire family was present.

“My son, Crown Prince Iroh,” the Fire Lord began. “Has hunted the last dragon.”

The people were surprised, but amazed. They stood there, waiting for more.

The Fire Lord did not disappoint, he announced that this was the end of the hunt. That his son is the last Dragon. A Prince, a General.

The win of the Fire Nation is secured, and the attendees _cheered_.

Soon the word spread.

And as the entire country celebrated with sake, with music, rhymes and anthems to the Fire glory; a simple remark was heard.

_Long live Fire Lord Azulon._

For he has brought justice to the world, gaining battle after battle.

_Long live Crown Prince Iroh, last Dragon._

For his reign will be kind, and just.

What celebrations they had that week, the whole country got drunk to celebrate as history was made in front of their eyes.

* * *

_Hello, Akari._

_I did not need the sass from your last letter, you wound me immensely. Yes, I know how babies are made, considering that I have one eating the same things I eat like a little bugger. You’re quite aware of what I meant with natal care, you utter fool. Don’t make me throw you into the water again, begone with a mongoose lizard following you, now!_

With tinier strokes, another message is read under.

_Thanks for the matcha, can you send more?_

* * *

“Ugh!” groaned Lu Ten. “I still can’t get it right!”

Ursa had to admit, she didn’t expect this to be so difficult for the young prince, but it’s a good distraction from the constant nausea and loneliness she felt.

The matcha helps, who knew Ursa would hoard cheap green tea like a lifeline.

“Breathe,” Ursa said. “You’re doing it better than what you think.”

The boy looked at her, the sun was setting behind him, they had been like this for hours now.

“But it’s not like yours!”

Was that the problem?

“The point is not to copy _me_ ,” she replied. “It is to do _your_ best. Besides, this exercise is for you to gain control because you have too much fire, I don’t have that much so it’s easier for me.”

Lu Ten looked a little unhappy at that.

“Hey,” she softened. “You’re doing it amazingly. I think your dragon is very beautiful.”

It was a small thing, no horns, and the tail was just a short burst of flame. But you could clearly see that it is, indeed, a dragon.

Although one might need to see its teeth, just to be sure it wasn’t a mongoose lizard.

“Really?” the boy asked, hopeful and innocent.

“Yes,” she replied without a second of doubt. “Well done, Prince Lu Ten.”

_(Neither of them noticed how Prince Iroh was looking at them with sadness in his eyes)_

* * *

It was during one of their tea times, when Prince Iroh finally let loose. Prince Lu Ten was far away, focused on something else. Ursa was trying to focus on the taste of the tea on her cup, but her mind kept drifting away with possibilities, and with letters to be written.

The end of Auttumm was awfully close...

Sober, yet loose in way that spoke of melancholy, Prince Iroh observed her before visibly considering something.

“Thread carefully, Princess Ursa.” he said.

Huh?

“Pardon?”

“Your family, Princess Ursa, has been quite an interest for the Crown,” Prince Iroh began, in a manner not unlike a teacher lecturing a child, condescending but forgivable. “Your Grandfather was watched very closely, and his wife appeared out of nowhere, it was a mystery for a while.”

 _What? Why? Grandfather was a noble, yes, but he was never important_.

Her Grandfather was a man Ursa never quite met; she has vague memories of amber eyes with a hint of grey. Of a warm voice and of tender caresses from weak hands.

Still, for Prince Iroh to bring such things out of nowhere...

“May I know why?” Ursa said into the night, the tea seemed to turn cold, two firebenders too engrossed in their conversation to care.

Prince Iroh seemed surprised, as if she must have forgotten something.

Then he turned thoughtful, like he answered his own question.

“Oh, right,” he said. “Fire Lord Sozin turned quite a lot of knowledge private, it seems your family has forgotten something as well.” he almost looked like he was solving a problem for himself, making Ursa just a casual spectator, a mere listener to a soliloquy. “Your grandfather, Princess Ursa, was the younger brother of Lady Ta Min.”

_Who in the frosted Seas is Ta Min?_

Thankfully, Prince Iroh continued.

“Lady Ta Min married a quite important man, Princess Ursa. It was a wonderful relationship, even late Fire Lord Sozin approved of it... at least at the start,” he said. “Lady Ta Min married Avatar Roku.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Well, fuck.

Of course, they wouldn’t leave them alone, if they are family to the Avatar, no matter how distant-

Wait.

Is Ursa’s family the reason that the Sun Warriors were discovered?

Seemingly unaware to her own panic, General Iroh continued.

“Lady Ta Min and Avatar Roku’s children are still alive,” his voice turned calm, like he wasn’t talking about watching people for over a century just in case they turn stray. “After the war began, no one wanted to help the Avatar or the people related to them. Any glory those children had, was lost, and now they live quietly in a tiny village, Hira.” his eyes finally turning to watch her, almost as if realizing she was there all along. “One of their relatives is a young actress, she looks a bit like you. Her children would be powerful, but it would be unsightly for one of the royal family to marry such... an individual.”

It is easy to forget, Ursa realized, that General Iroh was raised by Fire Lord Azulon to take the throne, with his kind eyes and warm smiles, with his strangeness. To be able to think critically, to be ruthless, to be ready for red to cover him and to be fine with it.

Even more, raised amongst the court, marrying one of such a lower station would seem utterly disgusting to him.

And if that’s his reaction, then what would Prince Ozai’s reaction be?

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked plainly.

Prince Iroh sighed, drained.

“You’ve been good to my son, Princess Ursa,” he said. “I’m not speaking as Prince Iroh but as a fellow parent.”

He paused, his eyes sharpening.

“Sometimes, you just can’t escape the legacy your family has created, thread carefully.”

She is almost glad that it was her, instead of that distant girl out there, at least Ursa can argue for herself. And she is quite disturbingly aware of how her husband would treat that kind of person, young and free, trapped inside a castle made of gold with no one to save her.

Still, that General Iroh said that her... distant cousin’s children would be powerful-

They had considered it, simply because her own grandfather was a powerful man.

_Did they even meet her? Or was that girl discarded from the start?_

No, no. They _saw_ her, apparently Ursa resembles her cousin, and she likes theatre.

There’s a strange sense of kinship, she has always valued family, as her family is her clan, and a clan keeps you alive. But Ursa is a director and her cousin is an actress.

Perhaps that says a lot of their personalities.

And personalities, Ursa knows, guide actions.

It is better this way.

_Isn’t it?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based the entire wedding scene from the comics, and that’s as canon as you’re going to get from me at this part of the series.
> 
> Yes, the wedding traditions here are heavily inspired by Shinto traditions. I’m a weeb, burn me at the stake.
> 
> In the comics, Ursa is wearing what I think is a Korean gache (wigs with braided hair, in the comics she has a thick braid surrounding her head like a halo, with either her real hair on the back in a braided bun or even more extensions if we are basing in real life) with a binyeo holding it together, but I prefer the idea of Fire Nation being based upon Japanese culture (yes, real originality right there), so a taka shimada wig/hairstyle with a comb (which is her main kanzashi) that is decorated with the national flame. Doesn’t actually change anything, purely aesthetic, if I made a mistake in the terminology or it’s not accurate, please correct me, I’m just a weeb.
> 
> Around November — which would be the last month of Auttumm in Japan — maiko start wearing a kogai kanzashi with a Chrysanthemum design, which is the flower that symbolizes the Imperial House of Japan. In “To Immolate”, they would be around the midst of July, but the detail was just too good to not include!
> 
> “Great results, can be achieved with small forces.” Yes, Sun Tsu, The Art of War. I am quite original, as you can tell.
> 
> The phrase “begone with a mongoose lizard following you” is an in universe version of “Exist: pursued by a bear.” From Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale. Why? Because I can, and the power is getting to my head, suffer.
> 
> Also, uh, don’t kill Iroh? He has his reasons, if the Fire Nation is based around Eastern ideals, the family you have is the family you must honour; if your relatives chose a kind of life, you should respect and make sure no one tarnishes it, or chose that life yourself.
> 
> Being related to the Avatar, no matter how distantly, puts you in a difficult situation.
> 
> Iroh has a point, he just fucked up, plus, he is not “Uncle Iroh” here, he is more what people would consider as “General Iroh”, if anything.


	7. ignition and burning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW! Referenced racism, referenced eugenics as justification of racism and discrimination, loss of weight due to stress, birth of a pre mature child and mentioned internalized misogyny (specifically about pregnancy and premature babies). 
> 
> All references explained in the notes down below.

Ursa asked to be excused, pregnancy is too harsh on her body, you see? She is too tired at the moment, so if you pardon, Prince Iroh, Prince Lu Ten...

But when she reached her rooms, she began to think.

Prince Iroh was awfully compliant with the treaties.

And now the royals know about the locations of the three clans.

If she doesn’t act as the perfect wife, there are three embers marked, ready to be extinguished. Ursa was  _ aware  _ of this, but she did not think it would reach this point. Yet having a big ‘hit me! I’m a traitor’ target from birth was  _ not  _ something she took into account.

And she dragged two more clans down with her-

_ Frosted Avatar Roku’s balls _ . Why couldn’t he be celibate like Avatar Yangchen? He didn’t even stop Sozin from starting this whole blasted war!

So, this is her fault, it  _ all  _ Ursa’s fault.

Why did she agree? Why did she drag all the clans down, the Masters-

The Masters, the dragons.

The fucking flying bison.

_ No, no, no, breathe. Don’t break down yet. Think _ , comes a voice, it sounds suspiciously like Osamu’s.

Ha, didn’t he say that hiding the clan from the Fire Lord was a mistake? Didn’t he think that we were doomed from the start and that it was better to just give up and save what we could?

In a way, he is-  _ was _ , was right. 

They were doomed from the start, that’s a fact.

Alright, it hurts to accept, but it seems that’s a truth. Thanks to being related to the  _ fucking Avatar _ .

Being related to spirits -it's even worse when you’re related to a mayor Spirit, which  _ includes  _ the Avatar-  _ will always bring trouble _ .

Great, moving on.

This new information doesn’t actually change anything, but it really makes her wonder if the royals were simply too prideful to marry a commoner, they had Ursa’s cousin as cousin as an  _ utter last _ option. 

To the point where they would accept the treaties with the clans.

Oh, Ursa’s sure that Prince Iroh’s spirituality helped. The last Dragon was simply part of a too prideful family, accepting a treaty that wouldn’t affect any of the  _ actual  _ plans of the Crown. Prince Iroh was willing and pleased with himself with the protection of sacred grounds (not people, never people, he is a General for a reason).

Ursa is the one winning here.

The Crown is aware of the clans, but as long as the clans themselves don’t move then they are at an impasse. A stalemate where both parties hold daggers to each other’s necks, waiting for the first mistake, a flimsy peace treaty that’s just a _ bride price _ stopping them from killing each other.

Because yes, using a Spirit’s children for war is dishonourable, and that is if the children themselves agree, but  _ not  _ impossible.

The dragons would agree to it, Agni’s children have been harmed directly by the throne and would gladly start revenging the far too many headless bodies of  _ hatchlings _ .

Tui and La are still mourning somewhere on the Northen Pole, there haven’t been children from them in more than a century, although that is barely a year for a Spirit. It’d be better to just leave them alone.

Earth’s  badgermoles prefer to stay neutral, but peace between the Nation and the Earth Kingdom has been only partial from the start. It did not help that the Kingdom itself decided to have different States with completely  _ different alliances _ . Gaoling,  Omashu , and Ba Sing See are neutral; other places gave up, some offered, others were  _ conquered. _

And the Winds  — whose even original  _ name  _ has been lost and is now simply called ‘Winds’ — have flying bison. Those have a right for retribution as wide as La’s waters.

Ursa knows that the airbenders from the Temples preferred to live a life of pacifism, her mother is far too informed to have an ignorant child and the style that reached the Sun Warriors was that of the Temples. There aren’t attacks so much as deflections in that style,  _ frosted deflections _ .

Ursa has never lived in times of peace, disabling one’s bending just for ethical reasons doesn’t make  _ sense  _ to her; peace is a concept, utopic, unreachable.

An Ideal.

And yet, the airbenders were called nomads for a reason, not all airbenders lived in the Temples; no, there were too few monks for that. Although it is,  _ apparently _ , true that the majority did prefer peace by the times of Sozin’s comet.

Majority does not mean all, not without the actual percentage to compare, and the stories of benders ripping air from lungs are true. 

_ (Fire comes from the breath, isn’t that terrifying?) _

The flying bison are children from the Wind, the original airbenders, and thus, far more capable of damage.

And as long as the Crown is not aware of the sheer length of the dagger that the clans are holding to their necks, they have a chance.

_ Nor of the poison it can be added. _

Ursa has never been good at sitting still, after all. And the treaties have already been used to the Crown’s advantage.

Why not do the same?

* * *

Later, as the last  leaves fall and Winter begins, she begins to wonder, why did Prince Iroh tell her at all? To make her remember her place? To be merciful? Just for fun?

Was Prince Iroh feeling territorial over his son or something? Sheesh, it’s not like she is doing anything wrong!

Not much anyway.

Still, she will be more careful from now on. Formal, making sure to stay firm to her role.

_ (Even when chatting with Lu Ten has become the only thing that keeps her warm in this too big place, walking the same grounds becomes boring fast.  _

_ Who knew that familiar handwriting was relaxing? Ursa surely didn’t until she began to hoard each letter like they are worth gold) _

If she makes a mistake, it will all fall apart, burn and turn to ashes before her eyes.

Ursa knew this, all of the clans knew, but since the Crown was the one to search for them, they couldn't really refuse. Accept the best offer soon before it was taken away, and pray to the Spirits for mercy for when it all goes wrong, but this? It’s insanity.

Her stomach becomes knots again, and all the energy she had is now drained. She needs to make a plan, a good one.

But she has no idea where to even  _ begin,  _ or if anything can be done to begin with, this seems like trying to win a Pai Sho game in one movement. Utterly impossible.

At least she is already in her bedroom, and she just sleeps.

* * *

The papers pile up, the days turn into weeks, the ink never dries right. No letter is ever finished.

_ Did you know- _

Another sentence is crossed over, nothing quite works. The letters were supposed to make her feel better, now all Ursa feels is lied to.

Perhaps Father knew, perhaps he didn’t. But he would have told her, right?

Shit, what would she do to have Ito here with her? At least for a spar, or just for talking, he has rubbed off on her, but Ursa at least know how to have a good emotional conversation.

_ (In theory.) _

In the end, she mentions nothing about the conversation. Having ‘tea time’ is already a sign of  important conversations in her letters, she doesn’t dare to put anything important on paper. Too many opportunities to commit a mistake.

If General Iroh wanted to give her an even heavier burden, he has managed it quite well.

* * *

_ Hello, Father. _

_ How has everyone been? I know I sent a letter the past week, but the palace has been rather odd recently. Quite a lot of tea was shared, not the good kind. _

_ Nevertheless, has anything happened recently? I had wondered when will Mother take over the school, she never wants to talk about any of that! _

_... _

* * *

There’s a sigh during tea time, the couple is alone sitting on a low table, eating desserts while drinking tea.

_ What to do when your pregnant wife is stressed enough to be ill? _

If there was a way to somehow read a guide to solve this conundrum,  Ozai would read it.

Ursa has high cheekbones, but the way that her skin drapes over them is new, yet it’s not like she isn’t eating. If things were so simple as to be solved by forcing a mechanical action, then he wouldn’t have to ponder about it so much. In reality, she is not in a truly dangerous position —otherwise there would, ah, been an accident already — but if things go on like this, she will.

_ The ends justify the means, that includes making sure this gamble favours him. _

The healers said it was a ‘chi imbalance’, and spewed spiritual terminology that grated Ozai’s ears.

What he does understand is the following: Ursa eats, doesn’t get better. Therefore, the illness is stress induced.

_ A curse, _ they said,  _ a spirit doing ill to the family. _

_ (She is not a good woman, they whispered when they thought he wouldn’t hear.) _

It’s not like it’s the letters that she writes,  Ozai has already checked those. From the start, he read them, just in case.

They never say anything important, but just in case, he reads them nonetheless. Oh, he suspects Ursa knows that he reads them, even the dullest of servants know to respect him. Asking for a letter, and then to have the seal re-done is child’s play.

Yet now it’s his turn to make sure that she is healthy.

Thus, eliminating the main stressors is the most effective option.

Who would have thought it was  _ his  _ efforts making a person better? Cleaning up after his brother did whatever he did with Ursa is not  _ technically  _ odd for him, the disaster being an emotional reaction is though.

Oh, he knows it was something Iroh did, he was aware of the other tea time his wife went to, but it seemed to help until a few days ago.  Ozai now has to step in  before a disaster happens.

Another thing his brother failed, and that  _ he  _ has to fix.

Ah, yes, the familiar disgust towards his brother, something at least makes sense now.

Ozai pushes the  _ wagashi _ __ dessert brought to him towards Ursa.

Her golden eyes lock to his, there are eye bags under them, but she still looks put together. A pity that this first attempt failed, it’s very unlikely that their child lives if things go on like this.

Still,  Ozai would rather remain celibate from now on than to lose his honour by marrying a peasant, e ven if he has to  _ parent _ his own  _ wife. _

And what does a parent do to a misbehaving child?

“Perhaps it’s time you focus solely on getting better,” he says. “Is your room adequate?”

It’s not a question, not really. Yet she looks a bit lost, confused, but she hides it quickly. Whatever Iroh said to her clearly unsettled her enough that even  Ozai can see it with ease.

He thinks he knows what it is, and Father always liked ironies. What’s more ironic than a relative of the Avatar in the family?

Ursa sits up straighter, and her eyes become attentive. She makes a show of pondering his question while she eats the dessert, but she can’t really deny him. She knows it. Even if it reaches the point of asking a healer a second opinion, they would agree with Ozai.

They know better than to deny him, it is time she learns to do the same.

“They are quite good,” she pauses. “Will the letters stop coming?”

“No, but writing from a bed makes the brush’s strokes rather unkempt,” his voice is neutral, like commenting on the weather instead of the captivity of a person. “You must focus on your health, wife.”

Ursa doesn’t look affected by this, but she has connected his apparent non sequitur to the answer already.

“We are royalty, husband,” her voice is stern, not angry but cold. “Surely we can afford a good in-bed desk.”

This is why  Ozai doesn’t deal with people personally, they are all so irrational.

“It would be a pity if your health continues like this,” he comments. “You might find yourself unable of writing if you don’t get better.”

_ Remember why you are here, _ he thinks.  _ You have grown  _ _ complacent _ _. _

“I will make sure not to reach that point then,” she says. “Meanwhile, I will continue my letters.”

Ozai grinds his teeth ever so slightly, but court has taught him how to hide all of that with ease.

At his lack of reaction, Ursa smiles, small, like she has caught a tiny — but  overall non important — prize.

Perhaps she did, they technically are the same rank, and even ill people get the right to write. He can’t order her to simply stop, nor can he argue against it, like he can order — no matter how indirectly or what pretence he has — her to stay in her room.

Sometimes he wonders if marrying the  peasant would have been easier, this one doesn’t know how to obey.

“Thank you for the  _ wagashi _ , husband,” Ursa says. “They are quite good.”

Up and down, up and down, her health goes.

It should be a tragedy, if only someone cared to watch it.

Alas,  Ozai never liked plays, preferring to listen to music and forget the people around him for just a bit.

He looks away.

_ (It’s a family trait.) _

* * *

_ Great, they are both pricks. _

Ursa knew it, but she didn’t expect to be  _ grounded _ . What is she, ten?

The worst part is that she is not as bad as they think she is. She is almost at the  average weight a woman as far along as she is should be.

_ (Almost is a bit of a euphemism, but she chooses to ignore that part.) _

Oh, how she wants to grab something and set in on fire. To break it apart, to watch it crumble and turn to ashes-

She exhales, the more she acts like she is not in her right mind, the longest this will go on. She has learnt how to  _ delay  _ her emotions, but she can never pretend that they simply don’t exist. Her husband is not her father, what gives him the right to- to-

Nothing, nothing gives him the right to confine her to her rooms! And to have the  _ audacity _ __ to act like it’s fine!

Whatever sweet words she used, she has already forgotten, the sweet flavour of the dessert she ate make her feel ill. Saccharine ash, melting and ruining the grounds of her tongue. When the wonderful chat is over — when they stop pretending that they actually like each other — Ursa goes to her room.

Thinking that this is the place where she will be confined in is simply too much, and the heat builds up inside of her. Her lungs are filled and the flames are too close to her throat.

Thankfully, she can hold it in until the servant goes away, but it was a close call. The way it all stuck and came up, and up, and up-

Then she spits every little flame out.

It helps a bit, to burn. To watch the angry red  fire consume nothing, cathartic in a way, how it almost feels like putting all her anger in one place and watch it fade away in the air.

Almost, but it’s not good enough.

_ Very well, _ she thinks.  _ If this is how you two want to play, then so be it. _

One can only put up with so much until they explode, and Ursa has already been ignited.

_ If love can’t keep you alive, then spite works just fine. _

* * *

It’s very nice that no one mentions that she is basically a prisoner in her room. Very ethical of them, did they say that she caught a cold? Oh, how harsh the wind and how the weather be so low!

Thinking about the excuses used just makes her boil inside.

This didn’t quite change her routine, she still gets all of her meals in her bedroom, she still reads boring scrolls about law (and re-reads theatre plays, for who-knows-what-time again), the biggest technical change is that instead of wandering the palace gardens she is now wandering through the same four walls.

Like a caged animal, doing a futile attempt of finding a new space  without going out, back and forth it goes, bored.

At  least she gets visitors, even if they sometimes feel like people watching an animal from a circus.

There’s also the factor that she can’t think of anything that will help her now. There are at least a hundred things she can do that will benefit her in the long run, but there’s nothing that will bother  Ozai _ now. _

Subversion, shifting truly minor things until they build up and crash down on you. She can’t alter the big things, no, she is not important enough; but nobles truly overestimate the popularity of royalty. The magic fades away if a person realises that nobles are just as human as peasants.

Values can be _ altered, _ opinions can  _ shift. _

Ursa wonders how much she can risk, but she knows where to start. She’s a scholar, Ursa just has to wait until Summer to begin acting.

_ If this is how he treats his wife, he will be a terrible parent, _ she thinks.

Speaking of that. 

Her baby was moving.

Of course, it wasn’t the first time, the little brat likes to move quite a lot. It seems her child will be a menace as soon as it’s physically possible.

Yet, it makes her try to eat more. She has been recently been updated to normal food, no more broth! How nice, she wonders if she should be glad that the Sun rises  everyday .

She’s never been one for optimism, but this year has been quite... a lot.

Ursa does not  _ like  _ the circumstances, but she  _ did  _ want to be a mother.

One day.

Her husband visits, clinical and efficient, with all the grace that his royal walking machine has. Prince  Ozai coming to her room mean that it’s her medical check-up. Her brother-in-law visits, or at least when he thinks she is asleep, like a person who knows they have made a mistake but doesn’t know how to fix it.

Ursa wonders if he is remembering his late wife, pregnant and ill.

Yet no one is there for her, except Lu Ten — Agni bless that child — as he likes to chat with her and ask for more bending pointers. 

_ (She wonders if they know that isolation counts as torture, she wonders if that’s why she has been ‘allowed’ to keep writing letters.) _

No one is worried for  _ Ursa _ , but for the child she carries.

She is not hurt by that, she is  _ really not _ . She understands it, of course.

She had a nice night of sleep, at least.

It’s better this way.

_ Isn’t it? _

* * *

_ Why didn’t you tell me? _

A groan is heard, meditation never quite helps her when she is like this.

_ Why didn’t you tell me? _ _ Would you care if I- _

“Ugh!”

Nothing quite helps, her strength slips and the brush is breaks with a loud snap!

A broken brush shouldn’t frustrate her this much.

She grabs the paper anyway, the ink dirties her hands, but she makes a tiny ball with it.

Ursa never quite liked using fire to hurt anyone, but she has to admit as the attempted letter on her hands burns, this is not hurting anyone, and it is making her feel better.

A bit, not quite. Nothing is enough.

At least she is not as cold as before. Winter is almost over, a month more and Spring will be here. Perhaps she can make it to her ninth month, wouldn't that be nice?

The letters were supposed to make her feel better, but writing them just makes her think of secrets. She misses her family, but playing pretend for so long doesn’t suit her.

But she doesn’t know what else to do, she can’t just bring them to the palace. Ursa will have to wait until she can go to the Ruins.

Summer, so many things will happen during Summer.

* * *

“And my tutors said that the Water Tribes need a ruler, as they are less advanced than us. So, that we need to solve that!” Lu Ten says, excited for knowledge as usual, the Spirits know that if that child had the opportunity, he would be happy as a scholar.

Ursa smiles even as she feels uncomfortable. She knows what ‘less advanced’ means in this case, a euphemism for ‘less evolved’. The baby blue eyes that the Water Tribes have, the symbol of weakness and yet the symptom of inferiority. 

It’s not strange for people of the Fire Nation to remark that, since their eyes are like those of a baby’s, then their development must be flawed or slowed.

_ (Ursa knows that it’s not just the Nation that says such things, the Earth Kingdom does as well. _

_ It wouldn’t surprise her that even some Air nomads thought that as well, they never quite enjoyed the cold, too different for them.) _

She has been called ‘less evolved’ as well. Not directly, no, but the native groups, the ‘less evolved’, those who need the protection of the Fire Lord.

Ursa really wants to correct Lu Ten, to tell him that he is wrong, that even if he  _ was right _ , that the Tribes want  _ nothing  _ with the Fire Nation for a good reason-

“Ow!” she exclaims instead.

“Aunt Ursa? Oh, uhm, do you need anything? Should I call a healer? Oh, Agni, Father told me that I should left you to rest and-”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says cutting his nervous babble, as she grabs Lu Ten’s hand and brings it close to her belly. “Here, feel this.”

Lu Ten hesitates for a beat, but his hand moves carefully towards her belly. Ursa can see the moment where he understands what she was showing him, as his eyes widen and mouth parts a little. Amber eyes brightening with glee.

“Does that hurt?” he asks.

“Not really, it’s mostly the surprise. Sometimes it does for a bit, like just now, but it mostly feels like...” she tries to put it into words, but goes with the simplest comparison. “Like a gas.” she falls short, she knows, it’s more than that, but at least it makes him giggle.

“Like a gas?” he chuckles.

“Yep, kind of like that.”

Lu Ten just continues giggling, like she told the funniest joke he has heard.

“My tutors didn’t mention that.” he says as he tries to catch his breath.

“Bah, aren’t all of your tutors men?” Ursa responds. “I doubt that they would know how it feels like.”

Lu Ten considers that, then nods, only to put his hand on her belly again. Searching for more.

The baby, as if flattered by the attention they are receiving, responds with another kick. 

Lu Ten’s eyes shine more, so Ursa lets him continue.

It was the beginning of Spring, perhaps things were getting better.

* * *

She really shouldn't feel the amount of glee she is feeling over going out.

Nevertheless, the healers said that she is well enough to stop this charade.

When she walked through the gardens, she made damn sure to ‘accidentally’ see Prince Ozai, alone if one were to forget that the walls have ears and that servants talk.

Ursa has pride, she will be the first one to admit it. If she were feeling unwell, they would be in her room, but she in  _ not  _ unwell, she is  _ fine- _

_ (Ursa has pride.) _

She smiled at him, but that smile felt more like a barring of teeth.

She is in a healthier weight, almost good enough for her sixth month of pregnancy.

Things will be fine.

“It seems, dear, that the in-bed desk won’t be needed.”

Prince  Ozai nods, a bit dazed but hid it well.

_ Aw, did you expect me to be unwell? _

Too bad.

“Should you be walking on your own?” he asked.

Her smile turned saccharine, sensing an opportunity. Pettiness, sure, but one must enjoy the finer joys in life.

“Would you mind walking with me then?” she asked, ignoring his question, and angling her arm  _ just right _ so it seemed ready to be held. “We haven’t talked in quite a while,  _ husband. _ ”

Ha! He looked like he wanted to set her on fire, but he begrudgingly took her arm, and started guiding her.

A  husband has his duties, and that includes doing mundane tasks for their spouse. Not even royalty can escape that, he has to make sure that she is healthy and well.

Of course,  _ guiding  _ is rather ah, unbecoming of a prince — there are servants for such things, of course — but if your pregnant wife asks...

Manners should be followed, and nobles are never quite alone.

No matter how hard one might try, servants  _ talk. _

“Oh! Tell me, are the  turtleducks warm? I understand that Caldera isn’t quite affected by Winter, but I was thinking about it while I caught  _ that awful cold, _ ” her voice was light, happy, fully aware and ready to not let him say a word. “Maybe we should go towards the pond, just in case.”

Walking is getting more difficult, with the way that her belly is growing, but she enjoyed that walk to its last minute.

Short, thirty minutes or so, but she has never seen Prince Ozai so annoyed.

Serves him right, for thinking that he can control her, and if he thinks this is will be the last of it, he is a fool indeed.

_ (It’s better this way.) _

* * *

_ (Isn’t it?) _

* * *

Things went back to normal after that, she never quite talked with Prince Iroh anymore, but Lu Ten still clung to her. Ursa just has to focus on taking one step after another, she would like to do more yet she doesn’t. 

Spite can get you far, and there’s nothing better than being better than ever when people expected you to fail. But for that you must be alive, and more or less healthy.

Ah, the simple joys of life.

_ (She hates living like this, she can’t sit still, but she can wait if needed.) _

* * *

She was getting better, the healers said that. That maybe the warmth of Spring is just what she was needing.

She was getting to walk in the gardens, with company, but she can go outside.  _ Finally. _

But Ursa feels  _ so cold _ .

Something breaks, like a  _ pop! _ sound of a water balloon, something drips... 

Red-

Ursa  _ screams _ . 

* * *

Ursa didn’t really know how many people there were in the room, frantic. Her son was small in her arms but he was _ alive. _

_ For now, _ a part of her says, but she ignores it.

She thought she saw Lu Ten enter for a second, but there quickly came someone much, much more important in the room. Ursa  reluctantly let him hold their son.

Her husband held their child on his arms, with the tenderness one might have for a heavy piece of  furniture .

Replaceable, but useful while it lasts.

Ursa saw the way he felt in his eyes, indifference, none of this mattered to him.

“Will the child live the night?” Prince  Ozai asked the healers.

“We, we don’t think so, Sir.” a voice came from the groups, timid, as if asking the prince to not make them guilty of this.

Prince  Ozai didn’t react much, just a subtle nod.

Then he looked towards the window.

While holding her child.

_ No, enough is enough. _

Ursa stood up, she refused to show the way she faltered, to let the subtle trembles shake her tired body. There’s no space for  weaknesses in this moment.

“Give me my son,  Ozai .” her voice is ragged, hoarse from screaming, and her face is sweaty.

She refuses to stand down, and steps closer to him. Slowly, measured, meeting his eyes with each step.

“I am not your little toy to be used,” she continued, knowing better than to wait for a reply. “We had a deal, Ozai. That’s our son, and you better treat him right.” Ursa comes to a stop, only a meter away from him, standing tall. “Think it through, what would the rest of court say if suddenly the prince’s very pregnant wife lost their child?”

There’s silence, the answer is tacit,  _ dishonour. _ To be burden with a broken woman, science has advanced and no such thing exists, but  prejudice won’t die so easily, even if proven wrong.  There are worse things, much, much worse, but having a lost child associated with you is never good.

Ozai stands down, and gives the child to the nearest healer.

“If the child lives, he will be recognised,” he turns and walks to the door. “If he doesn’t, he shall be buried, and those responsible shall be considered guilty.”

And he leaves.

The healers scramble, some follow Prince Ozai, others attend to the child, some try to fuss over her.

But Ursa can’t focus, she knows she sat down, she knows that she is crying every tear that she held back.

For a moment she feels guilty, what if it's her blame after all?

She knows it’s not, but for a moment Ursa stops paying attention and she  _ breaks. _

* * *

Lu Ten doesn't get a lot of things, despite of what his tutors or what Father might say. Yes, his mind is fast, and yes, it’s restless, sometimes it helps when he cares about what he is learning, but mostly when he wants to impress Father.

He doesn’t get what happened to his mother, he  _ knows  _ but he doesn’t get it.

He doesn’t understand exactly why Father and Grandfather are always talking about ‘rebels’ and about ‘waterbenders’.

_ (Months ago, his Father came to his room at night, and hugged him  _ really  _ tight, he never quite left the room. He brought a lot of candles but they didn’t meditate, just out them in a circle around the futon where they were. _

_ Like they were warding themselves against something. _

_ It was a chilly full moon night.) _

He doesn’t quite get what his tutors aren’t telling him, why the focus so much in Fire Nation culture when Lu Ten has been told by Father that he one day will rule the entire nation, but that he will be responsible for all the colonies too.

Lu Ten should know about other cultures too, right?

He’s been told that they are  _ bad _ , but the Air Nation’s philosophy seemed nice! Even if they never followed it. And the art from the Earth Kingdom Grandfather Azulon sometimes brings to the palace is so pretty, everyone looks like dolls, with their ethereal clothes and pale face.

He doesn’t get why he’s got that feeling that there’s something they are all hiding, or maybe not  _ hiding  _ per se, just avoiding telling him. Like when Lu Ten plays Pai Sho with Father and does his best to win, but doesn’t quite see the trap he is directly fallen into before is too late, and he has lost all his pieces.

What Lu Ten does know however, is that his baby cousin is  _ tiny _ . So tiny, Lu Ten can’t believe how he was ever this size, he knows he was small once, but he can carry the baby without strain and-

His baby cousin is just too tiny, and the night is too cold as he hugs the baby to his chest, the healers let him hold his cousin when asked but they looked sad. The baby looks puffy and slightly pink, but oh so small, in the red blanket that keeps him warm. The dark brown puffs of hair he has mark looks distinctly like Aunt Ursa’s own.

Although they quickly took him out of the room when Uncle  Ozai arrived, which lead them to Father, who was anxiously waiting outside.

But Father told him to stay with his cousin, before coming back from where Aunt Ursa was and telling him that he was going to the shrine to pray, leaving Lu Ten in one of the spare rooms for guests. Alone, in almost complete darkness if it weren’t for the Moon’s light.

His father looked sad, and somehow guilty, so Lu Ten understands, but he doesn’t like it. Father had been giving his respects to Mother quite a lot lately.

It’s the midst of Spring, and Aunt Ursa was supposed to have his baby cousin during the Summer, but it’s not that time yet but his cousin is already here.

_ Perhaps he just wanted to meet everyone early _ , but Lu Ten knows that is not the case. His tutors took the opportunity that since his Aunt was pregnant to teach him all about... how that happened.

_ Ew _ .

It’s not good that his cousin is already here.

His baby cousin doesn’t have a name yet, and Lu Ten thinks that it’s because they think he is not going to live pass tonight, not without Agni’s light.

But Lu Ten can help! He is not a kid anymore. And if his cousin needs light then-

“Lu Ten?” comes his Aunt voice, she sounds a little rough, like she has been screaming – which... He knows she was, he heard her, the entire palace heard her –. Aunt Ursa looks tired but even more tired than when his baby cousin was born, did talking to Uncle Ozai tire her? Her red robes are loose, like put on hastily, and her hair is sticking everywhere, and- “Lu Ten, what are you doing?”

Aunt Ursa always answers his questions, even if she takes her time to do it, but she at least thinks about it and gives him a (mostly) straight answer, even when it’s something dumb. Even if she has been ill lately, she still answers.

So, he breathes to steady himself. It’s a good theory, right?

“He needs Agni’s light, right?” Lu Ten says, but Aunt Ursa’s face stays blank while her eyes blink twice. “That’s what I heard, so we have to light a fire for him, so he stays warm.”

Her face is strangely open, her mouth parts a little, and her golden eyes shine like the light is trying to reunite with the colour in her eyes.

“That’s- that’s...” she splutters a bit, not out of embarrassment but rather like she is been offered the head of a badgermole at this late hour, yet she considers this for a beat. “I don’t see why not.”

She comes to where Lu Ten is, near the window, but takes him closer to the door at the opposite side of the room. Almost at the corner, giving them a view of the night while being far from the Moon’s light.

Oh! Right, if they are warming him the window would just lower the heat.

“Can you grab a few blankets?” Aunt Ursa says, looking like a strong breeze can knock her down. 

He nods and gives her the baby; the blankets are just on the big and soft futon. Lu Ten pauses for a second and also brings the pillows, and he puts them near the wall where she is.

Thankfully she understands what he is doing, and sits down on the soft pillow, letting him wrap around her shoulders the blankets.

She looks so sad, like she is about to cry, so he sits with her. Near enough to hug but just separate enough to let her choose it.

Sometimes when he is sad hugs just make him cry harder, so he won’t give her one without asking.

But she just hugs his cousin tightly against her chest, like she forgot what they were going to do.

So, he slowly rises his hand, and lights a small flame – candlelight on his pointer finger – near them both. His Aunt’s fingers twitch, ever so slightly, and it makes Lu Ten feel like trying to coax a wounded animal.

He almost opens his mouth to ask her what’s wrong when she rises her own hand, and lights a flame just as small as Lu Ten’s, but her is  _ different _ .

Lu Ten almost can’t believe what he is seeing, but with two fires and the Moon, the room is surprisingly well lit by their small corner.

_ There are colours in her fire. _

It’s like out of a spirit tale, out of that play that Father likes with the healing fire of many shades, and it’s not even the oddest part.

_ It whispers. _

Of course, not with a  _ voice _ , but Lu Ten feels like he is hearing a whisper. Gentle, and warm, like he is part of the hug too.

_ ‘I love you’ _ , it whispers in a rose red, then it flickers to orange with an odd blue part at the tip of her finger, where the flame is wider.  _ ‘Please stay with me’ _ , it says, and how can a fire sound so sad?

Fire is the element of power, his tutors had said, and yet this flame feels like mourning while Aunt Ursa’s eyes slowly spill silent tears.

She looks resigned.

Oh no, this was supposed to help! Lu Ten didn’t want to make her feel  _ worse _ !

Still, her fire carries on with those two messages, they are controlled, but his baby cousin doesn’t move nor cry even though he is warmer. If not looking better, perhaps this is working...

Lu Ten swallows silently, if its fire, then it’s a technique he hasn’t learnt. Although he doubts even Father knows about this.

But if it’s fire, then it can be learnt.

And as Aunt Ursa’s tears spill the second message – the plea – is stronger, even as her hands shake slightly, her fire stays restrained.

_ Like the flame is filled by what she feels. _

He didn’t expect this, nor does he think no one can, but if it’s fire it’s a technique.

Techniques can be learnt.

Lu Ten doesn’t want to lose his baby cousin, who doesn’t even have a name yet. He wants to teach him  _ kata _ , he wants to teach him jokes, he wants to spend their time together in Ember Island swimming, laughing as Father goofs around in the afternoon sun, to ask as many questions as Lu Ten does to Aunt Ursa, the baby’s own mother.

He wants the baby to be with his mother.

_ (He knows how it feels to be a son without a mother, but he can’t imagine what it would be from her side.) _

So, he breathes, and tries, but it does nothing, his fire is the same as usual. Strong but quiet, how did he never realise how quiet flames are?

_ Come on, come on! _

It’s been minutes, and Aunt Ursa looks...

Reverent, like her message is not for him to hear, mournful but trying to remain hopeful.

Perhaps it’s not the strength of the message, but the  _ intent. _

All he can think about is a single message, he doesn’t know if it’s going to work, but he won’t leave her alone.

Lu Ten forms a plea as well.

_ ‘Please stay with us.’ _

His flame is a boring reddish orange, but he can hear the faint whisper, not as strong as her own but it’s  _ there _ .

Aunt Ursa looks startled, and her candlelight flickers.

“Wha-” she splutters, but it’s barely a whisper. “How?” then her brows furrow, like she already knows the answer, but is asking on instinct. “Why?”

“Well, it’s working,” he says just as quietly, a little dazed that he managed to do it. “Look at him!”

Aunt Ursa looks at the baby in her arms, at how he is moving ever so slightly.

_ Moving. _

She swallows, looking amazed, then nods at him.

_ Okay Lu Ten,  _ he thinks _. You did it once, you can do it again. _

Control not just the fire, but the emotions you pour to it as fuel.

Yet it’s working, and he has decided that his baby cousin will live through the night no matter what.

Aunt Ursa’s flame moves from her tip of her finger to her palm, and it grows, hungry for more space.

The message is stronger now, but it matches Lu Ten’s as its colours swirl.

_ ‘Stay with us’ _ , like a light beckoning the lost.  _ ‘I love you.’ _

Yet she looks at him again, and she moves closer to him.

“Can you hold him?” she says, like throwing a whisper to the wind.

He nods, snuffing out his fire as he does what she asked. Then she opens the wing of the blanket that is closer to him, a silent invitation.

_ Oh, I guess we are hugging now _ . It was good that Lu Ten let her choose, or so he thinks.

They make a strange picture, but here they are, close as they resettle the blanket to cover them both. Letting Lu Ten hold the baby that is in the middle of them, as he tries once again to make his fire guide the child to stay with his single candlelight on his opposite hand. 

His baby cousin moves again, and breathes just a bit easier.

_ ‘We love you’ _ , his flicker of flame says.

_ ‘We love you’ _ , her fire says.

The baby opens his puffy eyes, they are blue as new-borns' are, but they are open and  _ alive _ .

Lu Ten won’t ever see fire the same way.

“Zuko.” Aunt Ursa speaks in a whisper, like she doesn’t realise she is speaking, sounding utterly adoring.

“Hm?”

“Zuko, his name is Zuko.”

Lu Ten looks at the baby, at  _ Zuko _ .

“It suits him.”

_ (Lu Ten won’t notice this, but his flame gains a splash of colour, a dark rose that could be confused with red, _

_ Ursa knows better than to do that.) _

Aunt Ursa stays quiet but she gives him a nod, acknowledging.

_ ‘We love you, Zuko’ _ , their fires say.

And Zuko cries, it’s small, quiet, but he  _ cries _ .

Lu Ten knows Aunt Ursa is smiling, because he is doing it too as he brings the baby closer to both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Christ, this chapter is a behemoth! 
> 
> There are two main reasons for that: one, a lot of scenes here were originally from chapter eight, but they fit better here, the second is that I have no idea when I’ll post again. Exam week, how nice. 
> 
> Racism and eugenics go hand in hand. Often when the hate is strong enough to literally try to eradicate the “enemy”, they have “logical” reasons. Not good reasons, but they justify it. 
> 
> Studies to “prove” which human race is biologically better, in times of conflict, are often used to justify racism. In the real world, they used it to justify slavery and injustice (“their skulls are smaller, thus their brain is dumber, so they need someone to tell them what to do” was a common example, “they have an organization dominating the economy because they are greedy, and it’s ruining us”, or that the skin colour granted people protection under the sun and thus should work exclusively there, etcetera), so I’m putting it here but such things will be mentioned all through the series (with warnings each time though, as the topic is recent, it was only until after WWII where they realised it has actual repercussions and even then, we never really stopped justifying hate with “reasons”, we are just better at hiding it). 
> 
> Radicalization is the most effective when it seems rational. The Fire Nation has a strong sense of piety, honour, and all of that; but even then, you would need “logical reasons” to exterminate a whole population in one day. 
> 
> If I somehow use Ozai’s PoV to justify or redeem him, feel free to hit me with a stick. I will actually beg you all to do it. There is a very fine line between redemption and explanation, I will do my best to not cross it. 
> 
> Also, yes. Zuko is premature, and he probably wouldn’t actually open his eyes so soon after birth, but it’s dramatic and I love it. Just take it that he is a rarity. 
> 
> I’m all for a fantastical world, but I’m also a boring bitch who likes realism, and I doubt the odd mix of modernization canon AtLA has includes neonatal care. So, I had to figure out how likely it was for him to have further complications depending on how early he was born. As he was born at the beginnings of his third trimester (mid of his 7nth month), the probabilities of long-term sequels are low. 
> 
> Warmth and feeding are needed, they are babies after all. Zuko here had very high chances of living already, even if Ursa hugged him all night. Technically, this is not healing fire, pre mature babies need warmth, and if you somehow got a way to make sure fire doesn’t burn well... 
> 
> I had doubted if I should make healing fire a thing here, I just love Embers (by Vathara) too much, but I wanted to go for a different route (which will be explained further later). So uh, please don’t be disappointed? 
> 
> And what is exactly Ursa’s “chi imbalance”? In the real world, yes it would count as stress, but I kept it vague so the reader can interpret it as they wish, but it fits with anxiety and depression...

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, if you read this through, please comment!


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